A few months ago, I tried again.
I put them down and made familiar promises.
No more.
For good, this time.
My family had been begging me to quit for years, especially my 9-year-old, Hannah.
"They're not good for you, Daddy!" she said in her demanding tone. "They're going to kill you!"
"I know, honey. I know," I'd tell her. "I'll quit. Someday."
Then in October, I was finally going to do it. At 11:59 on Oct. 9, I took a draw off the Marlboro Red and tossed the butt into the yard....
↧