So you’ve probably noticed your mother and I fighting a lot lately. All the time, actually. Yes, Emily, even when we’re not yelling, we’re still fighting. In fact, the non-yelling fights are worst. So cold. So hopeless. Oh so hopeless. More hateful than anything you’ll ever know, though they did usually take place in front of you, in your bedrooms.Or your classrooms—I don't know why we did that.
Nothing has been the same since… well, I suppose it started after you children asked us for that Xbox 360 last year. God, that really put a lot of financial strain on our relationship—notthat anyof this is your fault! I mean, not all of you. It’s just one. One of you is to blame. I think its best not to say who, though. I leave it to the three of you to figure that out. Your quarrels are your own.
I wasdiscussing our family's new living arrangementswith this guy I work with, Tim Haverchuck,while waiting to be seated atthe Olive Garden last night, and decided it would be most interesting if we split you kids up. So Chris and Michael, you’ll stay here with your mother. Emily, you’re coming with me to
Look, I know this is is rough for you guys, but we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it on the drive to the airport—which is in about 20 minutes, actually. The red eye to Tiajuana fora 200-dollar divorce. Can any of you drive stick?Only automatic?Wow, you kids got a lot of growing up to do.