My father said his father was frozen, and could feel emotion only when he was drunk. He would apparently get drunk four times a year, weep about his life, throw my father through the living room window, and disappear for several days, roaming the countryside of L’Islet Province, drunk and enraged.’ She’s not been looking at Mario this whole time, though Mario’s been looking at her. She smiled. ‘My father, of course, could himself tell this story only when he was drunk.
Another really clear example of the annular cycle of addiction, and the passing down from parent to child some kind of trait (in this case a sickness or disorder, but elsewhere as innocuous as a "MMmmmyellow")
