I feel like I am in a bad parody of a Whitesnake song called Here We Go Again.
Same song different verse. David has stolen an iPod again. Plus a set of keys to everything that we own.
When he got caught stealing the iPod, he became verbally abusive to us. Talking about how he hates us, and doesn’t want to be here.
So I am waiting on a call back to see if we can get him into a safe bed.
My other kids are begging me to remove him from the house.
He still has a set of keys. Plus who knows what else that he isn’t supposed to have.
We here the same song everyday. I didn’t take it. I don’t have it. Are you sure it isn’t in your pocket?
And then low and behold, there it is… in his pocket. Or in his bad. Or behind his bed.
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