|I returned from running errands to find THIS in mother's kitchen:
|He said if a boy can't have a taco, cookies will have to do.
|I told him I didn't think so and tried to grab him. He ran into his
room. Wielding a belt like a Samurai warrior, he emerged yelling:
|I said no thanks, gave his rash a taste of that leather and then
threw him in his room. After a bit of time-out he was released,
but within minutes he was launching livestock from a catapult,
trying to hit the neighbor's dog:
|"I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food
trough wiper! I blow my nose at you!"
|So it was back to the room for Rashy. He was awful quiet in there,
and figuring the excitement had worn him down and he was
probably sleeping, I decided to check on him. Good thing I did - the
little bastard had won some kind of Yu-Gi-Oh auction on E-bay, and
was setting up a Paypal account with my credit card:
|"Mom, where's your three-digit credit card security code?"
|One more outburst like this, and he's going off to military school.
I don't know how much more I can take.
|And as soon as i turned my back, he was gabbing on the
horn, racking up $500 worth of phone calls 'to his homies'.
|"Heeeey - Enrique! How is China treating you?"