Some younger folks are lucky they did too.
Gahh!
The fit throwing and sniveling I have put up with the last few days has damn near put me over the edge.
I finally stopped it cold, twice.
You are done now, shut your mouth I am totally serious.
I mean shit, after a half hour, forty five minutes of listening to this twelve year old boy bitch, moan and complain, throw hissy fits and tantrums, I am severely temted to yank him by the back of his neck and drag him to the nearest wood shed.
I got ahold of him a couple weeks back when he ran his alligator mouth one too many times after I had told him to shut up. Back talking his Mom put me over the edge. One of those little brats that always has to have the last word.
I ain't saying he is a terrible kid, he just needs some boundaries and a grumpy old fucker like me to kindly show him where they are. There comes a point when the talking is done.I know I am.
Don't worry, I do and will, until he figures this shit out.
He knows that you can only jump up and down on that last nerve so long.
Bad things happen when I get out of the chair.
I know his eyes were as big as saucers when I jumped up and trapped him in the kitchen. he didn't think this old bastard could move that fast.
Then today, I got to drive over a hundred miles on a nasty little two lane twisty assed motherfucking road to get back to Nasty Girls from her parents.
Two days of staying there, that is something I am going to have to keep to myself, the Old MidWest brought large.
Like I said, I survived and another Christmas is getting smaller in the rear view mirror.
Thank God.
It's always the fucking logistics, I can never get that through anyones head, why I hate that holiday more than any three combined.
Driving all over the fucking country side, putting up with hundreds and hundreds of complete fucking morons.
The fucking parking lots, the lines, the People of Wall mart kind of shit.
I have to sedate myself before I get out the fucking door.
I hope you all enjoy the peace and quiet until New Years.
Hand me that jug.
My cousin is help raise his girlfriend's son. He's about 11. Every time he throws a fit, the time when he can open his Christmas presents gets pushed off. Last year he didn't get to open his presents until the 28th. He's doing much better this year.
ReplyDeleteSixbears that is a good idea. I may use that one myself. Of course since I am not in charge at my house I will be over ruled. Nice thought anyway. I can have my fantasy.
ReplyDeleteEveryone mostly behaved at my household.
ReplyDeleteMy little one gets a little excited, but since the adults are a little slow, I sympathize with him. He is generally a very cheerful sort.
As the only grandchild on my wife's side, he makes out like a bandit.
Where do you get off talking shit about a 12-year-old boy? Certain people should be off limits to your shit throwing. Maybe he’s tired of dealing with a drunk. I know my kids were. You lost 2 houses because you drank them away. Your current girlfriend wants to get married, sober her up and send her my way so I can set her priorities straight. Children over shit talking drunken boyfriends. THE BITCH. Ya, I stopped by, like you asked, to see how you survived the holiday. BOY WAS MY TIMING BAD.
ReplyDeleteOther than that, how was your Christmas honey?
ReplyDeleteI had a great Christmas. spent it with the kids and grand-baby!!! couldn't ask for anything more.
ReplyDeleteThis is the greatest comment thread. Ever.
ReplyDeletegenomic repairman, interesting name whose orgasms do you repair? yours and whoever your with
ReplyDeleteDon't know you and don't really give a fuck to know you, but if that's the best retort you got, I hope the kid's sake, they got dad's sense of humor.
ReplyDeleteBesides everything else going wrong on my trip out to the coast to have Xmas dinner with my wife's family, the dinner was great and the the kids and in-laws (myself included) behaved well.
ReplyDeleteI ended up with a bad back that wouldn't let me walk upright, a head cold, and athlete's foot. I think I'm lucky my brand new windshield didn't get hit with a rock.
Years ago, a friend dropped by with his at the time six-year-old son. The kid was playing with one of my die-cast cars and was starting to get a little rough with it. I told him straight out and in a calm voice just like I would to an adult, "That cost me 20 bucks. If you break it, I'm going to fuck you up."
The kid played with it nice from then on. His dad told me he was a little amazed and should probably try talking to him like I did. I was a little amazed too. I don't have kids and don't know a damn thing about how to talk to them other than to just plain tell them what I want them to know.