well played, my son

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Well played, my son. Well played.

Maybe next time Mommy won’t buy you the toy spider you really wanted with the tickets she won for you using tokens she bought with the money she earned working long hours at a stressful job just so you can “accidentally” “forget” it in her car in a place that will cause her anxiety to look at for months (maybe even years) without thinking about this humongous spider that almost leaped out onto her face and ate her alive.

Thank you, my son. Thank you.

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