Key Issues

I've Contemplated Teenacide

So, the family went to Macon Thursday. Macon is the home of my husband's extended family, and Thanksgiving Day is one of two obligatory dates per year that our attendance is mandated.

So, we show. And, as usual, we are pampered by my husband's gracious aunt with way too much food, riddled with doll collection tales and wedding flower fiascos by the gay uncle, and tortured by indoor tackles from my nephew who doesn't know when to stop playing football.

Those prowling were actually more numerous than that, but I wasn't terribly threatened, as susceptible prey were equally ample in supply.

Unfortunately, my nephew, being the eldest of his cousins, quickly ran out of people willing to be pounced.

So, there I sat in my sweater, jeans, and heels, on the sofa, legs crossed, remote in hand, trying to interest my nephew in something on this sans satellite television before me.

He punched me in the shoulder. "Come on, tackle me. Give me your best shot. Come on. Come on..."

I cut him a look, then attempted to lure his focus to the screen, "Look...football!"

"Whatever, that's a crap game," he informed me, as he attempted to nudge me out of a sitting position with his foot.

"Would you stop?" I faked irritation, at the same time wishing I had been more appropriately attired for the task...and that there were less witnesses in the room.

He poked his foot in the area of my backside - quite firmly, "Ha!" he chided, "I got you in the jelly roll!"

It was a blur after that.

I hit him hard. I don't know who was more surprised...him, me, or everyone else in the room.

I grabbed him in the mid-section, forced him into a headlock, and rolled him off of the sofa and onto the floor, where I then pinned arms behind his back, while securing the rest of his skinny ass with the weight of my knee.

He was helplessly pinned.

"Say it," I demanded.

Laughter. Red-faced. No-way-in-hell-I'm-sayin-it, laughter.

His father put down the crossword puzzle for the first time all day, "We don't want you to break anything - better say uncle, son."

He didn't say it. Know what he did?

HE LET ONE RIP. All over me. Stink. Nasty-ass RUN from the room, STINK.

Nice. And you guys would have us believe that we don't fight fair.

Riiiiight....