conversations with an ill-tempered child
BY BILL NEWMAN
Me: Put on your shoes, please.
Him: I don't like the way they feel.
Me: Can you pick out a bedtime story?
Him: Why do I always have to pick it out?
Me (sing-songy): It's homework time!
Him: It's not fair. I'm the only kid in the whole, entire world who has to do homework.
Me: Here you go! I made you some hot chocolate while you were out playing in the snow.
Him (eye roll): It's too hot. And too chocolatey.
Me: Are you ready for me to rinse out your shampoo?
Him: Don't get it in my eyes. You always get it in my eyes and it makes them hurt and I don't like shampoo. Even the shampoo that they say doesn't hurt hurts. And make sure the water's not too warm. Because if it's too warm, it makes the shampoo feel like it's hurting me even when it isn't.
Me: How was your day?
Him: Fine, I guess. That is, if you like DAYS.
Me: Here's your grilled cheese.
Him: Did anything on this plate have to die for my lunch? I don't see anything dead.
Me: Check it out! Daddy got a mohawk! A BLUE MOHAWK!!
Him: Meh.
Me: Can you believe it? They say the world is going to be sucked into a black hole next December and that all of humanity is going to evaporate.
Him: They also say that that shampoo won't hurt. But it does. Because you rinse it all wrong.
Me: Whoa! I just ripped off my penis and now I'm holding my ripped-off penis in my hands.
Him: When can I get a DS? Everyone else has a DS.
Me: Look what your grandparents bought you! A real, live unicorn with a 14K gold horn and a saddle made of caramel.
Him: Does it poop real poop or sapphires?
Me: Um......sapphires?
Him: BO-ring.
Bill Newman is pretty convinced the world IS going to end. Because last week, he got to watch an entire half of a basketball game without someone cramming a Transformer up his ass. He can be reached at an email he no longer gives out.































































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