So instead we went to this park where I smoke another cigarette while he digs another hole. I didn’t time it but I think it was about 45 minutes before he finished. He was crying the whole time also and would periodically look up at me and mumble how it was “all his fault”. I said a couple things about how I needed to be getting back but he was oblivious, I just decided to wait it out. Finally he finishes, dumps the raccoon in and stands up, he’s still crying. I light another cigarette and try not to look at him. “Well?” he says. I look up. “SAY SOMETHING!!” he’s crying harder now. So I mutter something about “God please guide this raccoon to your heavenly bosom…” etc, he begins to fill in the whole and who should show up then but two police officers.
A collection of Dates From Hell by (mainly) Chicagoans. It truly is "that toddlin' town."
No, I have no idea what "toddlin'" means, either.
Warning: Language; and if you're at all like me, the danger of laughing out loud at some of them.