Tutor's mood is darker of late

Tutor is hiding in Audrey's big toy box, what he calls her Dumpster, drinking again into the wee hours, and regressing to the surly moralist he once was, under emperors and kings and queens long gone.  I only hope he does not cast a pall over Audrey, she who will inherit and rule our world, if it continues past the dynastic family now in charge. Even our future queen deserves a few years to grow as a rose grows in a well tended garden, to flourish as herself. "Come on, Tutor," she says, sensing his despair. "When I get sad, I do somersaults, really fast." And so, he trundles up and down her room, following her high rpm rolls with his slower more majestic ones. Now, exhausted, he is lying arms outstretched like the crucified Christ, as Audrey jumps up and down on his chest. But he is smiling. This Private Morals Tutoring of a nine year old, even for short money, is still his ideal job. Spanking The Wealth Creators, while they shrieked in delight, certainly had its moments, as Dungeon Master to the Stars in Wealth Bondage (Ah, the tales he could tell of important people you might know from the news!), but G-2, before the hormones hit, are more fun. If only every parent could afford a full time Moral Mentor for a kid, the world would be a better place.