Note: I wrote all of this except the last paragraph in April or May of 2017. I changed names as well, except for Henry’s.
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I’m on the bus to go see my son Henry at the hospital. I have to take him in a taxi to another hospital for some specialist doctor appointments they don’t do at the hospital at which he lives. I don’t want to take him on the bus to the other hospital because I don’t want to have to jostle with other curious passengers when I have to turn on his suction machine to suck out the saliva and mucus that collects in his tracheotomy tube. He would love to go on the bus though. He’s two. Despite the physical disabilities he has from the surgery to remove his brain tumour, he’s very sharp mentally and gets as excited about a big red double decker bus as any other little boy. I’ll take him on a bus soon and if it makes anyone uncomfortable they can suck my dick. Metaphorically; my family needs me too much for me to get sent to prison for trying to force a stranger to suck my dick on a bus. I do pass two prisons on the way to the hospital though so maybe it could work.