When you think emptying the dishwasher is so commoner and stomp a little to prove your point and when you do that muttering thing that has a high probability of containing the B word but it’s discreet enough to escape certain detection and when you get grounded from those frequent and meaningful conversations you’re having with your hundred and eighty three friends
What’s left but to plan your own death by a cause you can’t name, and to build a coffin with common art supplies like cardboard and poster paint, and craft a cute little headstone with catty little dig to go with your name, and then there’s the soundtrack for your service, and well-written eulogy filled with unflattering references to your parents for your best friend to read, because Man, he’s always been there for you
When the Dad from another century can’t suppress his old guy laugh and tells you to find your one point and move forward, you have to get even more furious and tell him that he can take his aging Zen self and try to be even more clueless
Doesn’t he know you’re the Prince? If he’s your Dad, then that makes him the King, shouldn’t he know that? This is serious
That's the problem with teenagers today. They do not understand ascendancy and the pecking order in royal families:) Dad is the King and if the Prince doesn't empty the dishwasher properly, he ends up with a wife like Camilla
ReplyDeleteParker Bowles.
In my day (light years ago ) families would send their children off to boarding schools so that they were spared the trials of living with teenagedom.
Boarding schools are still very popular here and in great demand. You must make a booking when the child is born to get a placement otherwise you end up having to share a house with your teenage progeny.
I loved this...enjoyed every bit. I always tell my son (and my students at school) that I am the Queen, and Queens don't make bargains!
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