Cold out

So I'm on another death march with The Father and I'm like hey if you let me out of the stroller maybe my limbs will have a chance at avoiding frostbite, and he's like whoa whoa there tiger, you can't walk yet, and I'm like well I can crawl and at least it'll keep me from turning into a babesicle and he's like I'm not going to slowly plod along behind you while you crawl on the pavement picking up stones and dog poop and rotten leaves every few feet and I'm like whatever I can't feel my fingers anymore anyway and he's like whatever I'm gonna go back to my ipod. Unbelievable.

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