Tuesday, November 20, 2007

That's My Boy

My oldest boy (Trash Jr) is 13 years old. So you know what that means. He knows everything. Don't believe me, just ask him. He'll also argue about anything. If you say it's day, he'll swear it's night. There has not been a week since the 4th grade that I have not received an email or note or phone call from a teacher or assistant principal and sometimes principal about his behavior. And not really behavior, it's his mouth. He can't shut it. He seems to think that he's a funny mother fucker, just like his dear old dad. So do most of the kids in his class. I've told him a million times that there's only room enough in this house for one funny man and he ain't it. After tonight I am seriously considering passing the torch and retiring from the funny business. Tonight he said some funny shit, problem is, he almost gave his mom a heart attack.

I was in the garage yelling into the kitchen when this took place. Advice time. If you're in the process of sitting down when you hear the funniest shit you've heard in a long time, it is best to go ahead and fall. You'll do less bodily harm than you would trying to save yourself.

Trash:"Hey Jen. There's a new Paris Hilton sex tape out."
Trash Jr: "What did he say?"
Jen: "He said Paris Hilton made a new movie."
Trash: "Yeah. A movie where she's doing the nasty."
Jen: "That's enough."
Trash Jr: "A new sex movie?"
Trash: "Yep."
Jen: "I don't want to talk about this."
Trash Jr: "I only have one thing to say."
Jen: "What?"
Trash Jr: "I hope it's better than the last one."

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