I expected to see Bob walk through the door and then run to hug him screaming, “Dad!”
Instead, he snuck up to the merch table. Said hi to me. And then I looked up and said, “Hi…… OH HEY!!!” And then we continued to talk about how I’ve had such bad diarrhea/vomiting on tour that I had to go to the hospital a few days ago.
I hope he still puts out our records. I’m sorry.
*FYI: Bob’s not my dad. I call everyone that helps Cerce out “mom” and “dad” because I am a CHILD.*
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