Which made watching him staple his left thumb all the more entertaining. Glancing around, he made sure the coast was clear before leaning in so only Blisk could hear, “And you know damn well it wasn’t my choice.” As a first-time parent and homeowner with a freshly grown caterpillar crawling across his upper lip, Imhara thought he had everything figured out. Five year olds are surprisingly impressionable.” “Huh.” Grabbing his duffel bag, Blisk rooted through it for a fresh set of clothes, “Still a shit house.” The throw pillow bounced off the back of his head. “It’s an adult word you can use it when you’re eighteen,” Imhara swatted at Blisk to keep him from scoffing, “Why don’t you go help your mom with the chickens?” “Does that actually work?” Blisk asked once the girl cleared the room. “What’s ‘shit’ mean?” Kaira asked, bouncing on her heels. C’mon, we’ve got a roof to retile.” “Reroof,” Blisk grumbled, “You’re the one who bought a shit house.” “Shhhhh,” Imhara hissed but it was too late. We’ve got work to do.” Blisk groaned as he pushed himself off the couch and stumbled to his feet, “Aren’t friends supposed to let you drink yourself into a stupor after a divorce?” “This isn’t a bed and breakfast. “You didn’t think you’d stay here for free, did you?” Imhara hit him over the head again, “Get up. “Up!” “What the hell?” Imhara’s lucky Blisk didn’t have his wingman on him or there would’ve been a round through his skull and a permanent scar on Kairi’s psyche. “You sleep with your mouth open.” “Wha?” Blisk barely had time to register her words before Kim’s favorite throw pillow descended on him from above. Seeing Blisk’s eyes open, Kairi jumped back with wide eyes. Sometimes, life rips the rug out from underneath a man and he suddenly goes from a successful military career to sleeping on a friend’s couch, being poked away by a curious five year old.
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