When he traded in the van for a sporty, red two door,

it was a bad idea.

When he went golfing with the fellas instead of going to the store,

it was a bad idea.

When he didn’t call his mother on her 55th birthday,

it was a bad idea.

When he forgot his own 15th anniversary,

it was a bad idea.

When he colored the hairs in his beard black,

it was a bad idea.

When he drank that 12th Mac and Jack,

it was a bad idea.

When he pulled away from his friends,

it was a bad idea.

When he reached the point where he was never bothered by his sins,

it was a bad idea.

When he told his wife he “loved” her but needed time away,

it was a bad idea.

When he thought that since they were apart it would be okay to stray,

it was a bad idea.

When he died alone years later,

he was sure: HE WAS THE KING OF BAD IDEAS.