I never minded that you always worried about making sure she had enough giant squid to eat, or that you fought anyone who had a sympathetic reading of Captain Ahab, or that you had a bumper sticker made that read: Save the Humpback, the Sperm Can Handle Themselves.
What bothered me was that you never really cared about my kangaroo.
Oh you pretended to care…in your own way I suppose. You tried to box him or asked if he had anything in his pouch. Male kangaroos don’t have pouches, but you knew that and teased him as if he were a nephew whose recital you’d been forced to attend.
At least I made the effort with your Tabitha, which is more than I can say for her.
