Sunday morning, I am up real early wanting to get to the skate park as soon as possible. As soon as I land Frankie jumps the railings and runs over to me. “Hurry up we need you.”
“Whoa calm. What is wrong?”
“Mi’s having a fit.”
“A real fit or a tantrum?”
“It’s like he’s being possessed by Lucifer.”
“Really?” I cannot believe Mi is suffering that badly from m*******a withdrawal. How wrong I have been. Once in the skate park I see Mi laid in the deepest bowl, scrunched up, with his hands clutching the side of his head. What have I done supplying my Pig with that evil s**t? I run down the bowl to sit with him.
“Smack me. Smack me. Smack me,” wails Mi.
I give him the lightest smack to the shoulder. “You’re doin
