Fortunately, the food comes quickly, and I share from my plate with my son. Testing the food ensuring it is not too hot. I wave my hand over the plate...cooling it slightly. Little Patrick is definitely hungry, and a little impatient being a toddler. The server smiles at how gently I treat my son. Giving little Patrick a piece of meat, he grins up at me. This is not the first time he has eaten while in my lap, although given the chance he prefers his grandfathers lap. I managed to get a few bites. “You don’t want to spread it. Wash your hands and don’t touch your face.”I pulled my hands from scratching at my nose. “I’m not getting it stuck in the apartment all the time.”“That’s right,” she said, smiling at me. “Now go. Wash your hands. Thoroughly.”I swallowed my retort. Part of me wanted to bend my mother over the counter and fuck her hard, the other part wanted to tell her to fuck off about the disease. I was sick and tired of it. I wanted my life back. I wanted to be free. If I wasn’t. More

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