Parenting, with notable exceptions, is an art with which the Collins name is not often associated.  Despite avoiding it in my younger days (as did Jeremiah), I find myself in the role with increasing frequency and investment.  With David and Amy, the impulse is natural, as natural as it was with Sarah.  But with Maggie and Carolyn, I find it burgeoning as well.  Am I atoning?  Am I trying to undo the damage inflicted by the Leviathans?  My main child, now called “Jeb,” is a street-tough hooligan, totally resistant to command and direction.  He walks like a drunkard and speaks like a bragging sailor whose self-congratulation is as thick as his pate.  And this is a messiah?  I am so very glad that I broke free from them, if only to avoid the same-by-association with the “Hepcat” Hellspawn.



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