It's All Uphill After 13

I sat down and waited for my mom’s cinnamon toast.  It was freezing, I dug my feet into the carpet of our breakfast nook. Usually there were some squirrels and birds to watch and comment on but it was too cold for them. Christ, this meant a possible interaction with my dad.  I stared at the ashtray on the table and counted the butts, five and one burnin…