I am sick of his narcissism. He clearly does not care for me anymore. Instead he would rather douse his body in paint and grope himself on canvas. “...hanks Babe. Wait! Do my back!” Sean yells back as I retreat to the bedroom. I plop onto the bed. I can not believe how selfish Sean is being. He did not even bother to come back to the room to see how I am doing. As I lay here brooding I hear a loud thud. I run to the terrace to find Sean rolling around on the canvas. He continues massaging his. Each Christmas that he was unemployed and/or underemployed was more Spartan than the one before. Last Christmas was the worst, when they couldn’t even afford a Christmas tree and Walter went out Christmas Eve to buy whatever tree he could find. Better than nothing, he found a tree for ten bucks that looked as bad as he felt. Still his three kids didn’t care. They were just happy they had a tree to decorate and to have a place where Santa could leave them their presents. Unable to buy them. More

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