I used to get sick of being teased for my perfect, all-American fanily.
Yeah, my parents were great.
And yeah, we had the dog, the family dinner, and the camping trips in the summer.
But perfect is boring, right?
Turns out, it's a hundred times better than watching my parents split up.

Mr. Plummer took a deep breath. "Evan . . . you see . . . your mother and I have been talking about making some changes in our lives." He glanced at Evan's mother, who was shaking her head, although not at him. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be muttering something to herself. "You see," Mr. Plummer continued, "as your mother said, we have a lot of issues to resolve. And, well . . . " Again he stopped and looked towards Mrs. Plummer.
"We have to tell him," she said reluctantly. "You're right, Tim. There's no use pretending anymore."
Evan heard ewach word and saw each look exchanged between his parents. It was as if he were being given tiny pieces to a giant puzzle that he couldn't put together. One that he didn't want to put together. He watched as his father nodded to his mother - seemingly in slow motion - and felt like he was stnding on an elevator just after it's cable had snapped.
His mother turned to him, her eyelids heavy, and Evan felt his body plummeting downward, leaving his stomach far behind. "I'm sorry, Evan. I didn't want it to come out this way," she began. Her voice shook slightly as she spoke but still managed to cut through him like a sharp blade. She glanced one last time at Mr. Plummer, who had ducked his head and was scratching the back of his neck, and then she finished. "Your father and I have decided to get a divorce."

Be Mine