Curtis has smoked since he was 13 or 14. He's now 76. He's done it his whole life with the exception of about 3 years. I have spent a large part of my life devoted to the battle to get him to quit. It hasn't exactly worked out. I called him this afternoon and we found ourselves back on the topic of smoking...
Me: You're not smoking in the house are you?
Curtis: Naw.
Me: Because I thought I heard the flick of a lighter the other day when we were on the phone.
Curtis: Huh. I don't know what I was doing. I go out in the garage now.
Me: Really?
Curtis: Yeah. I got a heater out there. I tell you what, it really cuts down on my smoking.
Me: Well that's good.
Curtis: A pack of cigarettes will last me two days now.
Me: Well that's something.
Curtis: I'll quit one of these days.
Me: Dad, lets just be real. I think we all need to accept the reality that you are never going to quit.
Curtis: Hm. Yeah I guess you're right. Still, I might quit one day.
