This whole working a nine-hour day, rocketing home, wolfing down dinner, and hitting the road again to rehearse all evening, and then doing the half-hour drive home to collapse into bed?
It’s a whole lot easier when you’re younger and stupider.
In connected news: although I have tried to bring him up right, to be a valuable member of society, Max has to go to rehearsals with myself and Lisa. This has resulted in him getting a walk-on part, and a line, which greatly excites him.
It has been pointed out to me, however, that all I need do is wait a few more years, until he becomes a teenager, then let him know I really want him to be an actor. Then he’ll become a plumber, just for spite.
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