Reason #139 why your adult child should not live at home, or at least why you shouldn't ever buy him a video camera:
Lt. Gov. Lee Fisher (D), is running for Senate.
On this night, he is minding his business and working
shortly after midnight in his home. He is shirtless,
and surprise-surprise, is being video taped,
and then interviewed by his son.
And the little prick has the nerve to ask at the start of video, "What could my father be doing now?"
Reason #1039 why the GOP sucks ass and will never be anybody's "Moral Majority":
GOP attack ad,
twisting and inventing shit, as usual.
Those two videos seen together, however, are hilarious. As for Fisher's son, if I had the brute strength of a father and I was his dad, the ER docs would be trying to remove that video camera from his azz.
And I thought my son was bad... Well, I can't lie, he is.
I don't know Lil' Fisher, but mine must have been watching the clock for Mother's Day to end. I woke up from either noise or smoke a few minutes after midnight, and the lil' ninja was having a mini-party in the living room, and burned up a pot of Ramen noodles.
I can't tell you how much I wanted to yell at him - and he knew it - but the loony landlord was in the basement, and that's one dragon who never needs to be awakened.
So I whispered, "Get those mofos outta here now!"
He's the last ninja who should drink because it doesn't mix well with his mood disorder, and his halfway drunk azz thought it was funny.
Smoking up the kitchen: strike one.
Having company over after 9PM and the kind of company he had: strike two.
Boozing: strike three.
Problem though - how in the heck was I to do a you're out, mah'fucka, when I couldn't?
Instead, I whispered, "Ssshh! You'll wake up the landlord!"
Ever the salesman, he tries to cut a deal, saying, "We'll be real quiet if they can stay."
"Oh hell no!", I whispered furiously.
He thought that was funny, too, while I worried about the fire-breathing dragon in the dungeon.
I suppose Lil' Fisher and his buddy were cracking up, too, when they ambushed Fisher's poor shirtless father and then uploaded the video to YouTube. Now poor Mr. Fisher has his own fire-breathing dragons on his azz and may lose a shot a good job.
Been there, done that.
Wish I could end the story there, but that night continued to be surreal. No sooner had I kicked Xavier and his buddies out of the house for the night, we could hear the Fire Department engines screaming. I thought a neighbor had called over the smoke from my place.
Next thing ya know, they're rolling down my street and I'm muttering, oh shit, my landlord is gonna go psycho.
Well, no, I got lucky, but not the house a few doors down.
Their sweetheart of a son was smoking in the car and must have dropped his cigarette... or whatevah. And engine fire my azz; the entire vehicle was flames - the kind of flames that were shooting up as high as the second story to their house.
Too bad it was parked in their driveway right next to it.
And what was my lil' moron and his homies doing? Standing across the street, laughing, while one of them was video taping the shit on his cell phone camera. Tell me, has being entertained at stupidity and destruction always been national pastime, or is it now simply more obvious due to our technology? And how come it didn't dawn on my son that this could have been our friggin' house?
I can just picture the back page headlines now:
Ramen Noodle Eating Ninja Burns Down House,
While Landlord Beats Mother
And Stomps Yapping Poodle To Death
While Landlord Beats Mother
And Stomps Yapping Poodle To Death
Moral of the story: Who needs enemies when ya got family?
Well, at least my son's shit didn't technically happen until after Mother's Day.
I reminded myself of this yesterday, after my daughter snitched that she caught him trying to "borrow" my car to drive his girlfriend home. Yes, the girlfriend he helped flunk out of her 12th grade year. I found this out last week by accident when he was talking to her crying azz on the phone.
Does he take any responsibility for that either? No.
Xavier really got mad when he overheard me saying this on the phone to a relative that soon enough, maybe he'll be part of her family, 'cause I'm still praying for that full time job and enough money to get the hell out of Dodge.
He said indignantly, "You cannot put that on me! It was her choice to spend time with me instead of going to classes."
This relative, who is also a therapist, could hear his response, and burst out laughing. "That's good," he said.
This made me laugh.
"What's so funny?", Xavier complained with innocence as fake as his indignity.
I relayed the message. Saint Xavier ain't really stupid, and he got that, then got all huffy.
Parents, this is the risk of what you get when your oppositional-defiant kid spends entirely too much time in therapy during their childhood. They learn how to say all the right things, which amounts to bullshit. I swear, he'd be dangerous if he had the education and connections to work on Wall Street.
By me talking about how he could go live with his girlfriend's family, Xavier suddenly remembered that I have an escape plan. I could tell, 'cause that's when he returned with The Usual Lie, followed by The Suck Up.
"Ma, I did not steal your car."
Somehow, I had a flash back of Bill Clinton saying, "I did not have sex with that woman."
I had to keep from laughing. I said, "You got caught, nigga, you busted."
I looked at him with that I ain't stupid look and said, "Xavier, haven't you learned by now that when you're caught, the correct thing to do is to apologize?"
"I didn't do that. She just hates me. She's jealous."
"Maybe she hates the idea of you effing up my car and it getting impounded 'cause you ain't got a drivers license and probably had a joint on you."
"Well, if you're so sure I did it, why don't you kick me out?"
"You're just scared I'll break up something or try to commit suicide."
"Ain't like you haven't done that before."
He leaves, and returns 15 or so minutes later.
"It ain't sincere."
"I need your help."
"Heard this before."
"What should I do?"
He ain't gonna leave my room until I bite the bait.
"You really want to know, Xavier?"
He nods, and I know it's a game, but I tell him anyway.
"The truth needs few words," I say, "and I have three for you. Follow them consistently and everything else will fall into place."
I took a long pause. He waited.
"Stop. Being. Selfish."
He feigned deep reflection for the rest of the evening. Oh, but he's good. I wonder how my son, and the youth a few houses down who burned up his parent's car, and Fisher's son would get along as roommates?
Stranger things have happened, and if it does, I'll send them a case of Ramen Noodles.