I Never Learned My Lesson

Sometimes I do stuff just because I know it'll bug the stink out of The Kid when I tell him what I did. I'm sure that poor Mom taught me better than that when I was younger but, in consolation Mom, I only do this to The Kid.

I did two such things last night. One of them The Kid knows about and the other he doesn't because he didn't call me back.

This may be due mostly to the fact that the voicemail I left said something very similar to, "Gosh The Kid, call me back. I did something real bad that you won't like and I have to tell you what it was. You're cool. Bye."

He really won't like this one, either.

Oh. Um. I just realized something. Seems The Kid and I have the same character deficiency, because we both do bad stuff that Mom doesn't like sometimes (like drinking Pepsi or Root Beer and sneaking off to Krispy Kreme at all hours of the day and night) only we definitely make sure she knows we're up to no good before we go off and do it.

For example. Mom will be in the kitchen scrubbing a pan (she's in there a lot when all us kids are home making messes, causing trouble and generally acting like we're 5) and The Kid and I (and usually Joey, too, he's naughty as well) poke our heads around the corner and say,

"Mom, we have to Go Somewhere. We'll be back in awhile."

Mom will roll her eyes at us and say, "Have fun at Krispy Kreme."

Then we'll all get real shocked "caught!" looks on our faces and run down the stairs and out the door whispering "Oh no! She's onto us!"

So if I'm a bad example of good character, so is The Kid. He's probably worse, too.