9rd in Hey, buddy, got a light?

I was at dad’s for a while. He usually gets in a cleaning frenzy before he crashes, but didn’t look like the case this morning when my mom picked me up.
Slumped out on the couch with a thermos of coffee, jolting up sputtering out words when I was in the kitchen. I would’ve done those dishes if I didn’t think the noise was going to bother him.
Back at grandma’s now, and I saw a little spider on the door behind me in the mirror.
We’re seeing ants here and there, and that spider probably would’ve helped with that, or maybe would’ve bit my legs; they always go for the legs, fuckin bastards.
I’m itchy now because like, fuckin, I guess some of it’s web got on me when I lysol’d it.
I think it was the japanese who had some kind of superstition about killing spiders, but what aren’t they weird about.
Jarrod finally got a skype call with his son, said he didn’t seem that excited to talk to him.
Be good, I love you.