This is the famed Edaville Railroad picture. And I was not having it, whatever “it” was supposed to be. And yet you never flung me onto a train track or handed me to a station attendant.
I appreciate that, Dad, I really do. That’s just good parenting.
And I’m gonna go ahead and hazard this theory: if a guy can handle his pointy-hatted two year old having [what was apparently] the worst tantrum of the century in a public (andFestive, Dammit!) locale, then he can for sure handle another round of chemo.
Hang in there, Dave [“Keel,” you continue to say].
You can do this.
And I can guarantee that this treatment won’t be as noisy as I was.
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