The man in the stick figure family depicted on the rear window of a Temple Terrace woman’s minivan is the only identification the woman’s children have with their estranged father or any positive adult male role models.
“Yeah, Kenny left me in April and I keep forgetting to go out with a razor blade and scrape that off,” said Sue Ann Quarrely. “That’s okay, the kids seem to like looking at it. It’s a nice way to remember him. I mean, he isn’t dead but I wish he was.”
The children in question, her son Jayden and his sister Katy were standing in the driveway, staring at the minivan and crying at the time.
“D-daddy?” sobbed Jayden while wiping away a tour and pointing at the decal. “Shhh”, replied Katy, offering him a hug.
“Okay, so he’s not around to provide love and guidance but he’s also not around to get drunk and scream at them,” Sue Ann pointed out. “Win some, lose some I guess.”
“And it’s not like they’re missing out on much. I’m dating this guy Brad and he’s around quite a bit. They can call him ‘Daddy’ if they want,” she said.
“Man, fuck that noise!” replied Brad in response. “If I ever catch either one of those brats calling me ‘Daddy’, I’ll be out of there so fast their heads will spin, and that includes Sue Ann.”
“Brad’s 24; he can’t be a daddy,” said Katy in agreement.
“Well, technically that’s not true. I didn’t say all that,” countered Brad.