Because there really are no words that sufficiently convey how shit full I am of my son's attitude lately.
When I tell you to do your homework, this does not mean that my request is open for negotiation. When we go to Whole Foods to grab a quick bite before taekwondo, I do not think that it is unreasonable that I too be permitted to select dinner for myself without having to listen to you whine the entire time that you're starving and that I'm taking too long and this is sooooo boooring. I won't even get into last night's temper tantrum during dinner, because while you obviously could care less how this looks to other people, I'm embarrassed for you. I understand that you consider temper tantrums to be a viable approach to getting your own way, but in the immortal words of Homey D. Clown, "Mommy don't play that." I hope you like your bedroom, because I have the feeling you're going to be spending a lot of time there in the coming weeks, maybe even months. Your father and I understand that we have a legal obligation to provide you with food, water, and shelter. We are not however required to provide you with video games, lightsabers, or television. We suggest that you kindly bid these things adieu. That said, you have the opportunity to redeem yourself, and to one day be allowed to rejoin society if you are able to adhere to the rules set forth by the Responsibility Chart. Rule #1? Stop acting like a jack-ass. Love, Your Exasperated Mother.
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