That kid could have been me, 50 years ago. I still HATE the smell of bars. When I walk past a bar (I don’t go in them), and I get a whiff of that miserable smell – stale air, cigarette smoke, booze, marischino cherry, sweat, etc. – for a moment it’s like I’m a sad and scared little kid all over again, preparing myself to go inside and beg dad to come home while mom waits in the car. Ugh. Bleck. Feh. Fortunately, the moment passes and life is good again. Hope that little guy fares as well, or better.
Things like this break my heart because you can tell that the poor child is neglected and put last behind what the loser parents want. So sad, especially when ppl like this have kids like crazy and some ppl who are decent and really want kids can’t have them.
The instant I saw this picture I gasped so hard I almost choked, because I could have sworn this was me when I was little. And then I realized it wasn’t. But DAMN was that a few seconds of “OMG” …Uh, by me I meant that I’d be the kid on the floor, but nope it’s not me. Although, my mom >used< to be a barfly and since I hated my babysitter I'd go with her and I'd get bored and run/jump/sit/crawl all over the place but then get tired, and once or twice I actually slept on the floor like this. Thankfully, my mom pulled her crap together fairly quick. …Actually I'm still not 100% certain this ain't me.