Wandering into the kitchen a few nights back I find Monkey Boy, hand over his mouth, his cheeks bulging and his eyes, well, there were quite a bit “oh, fuck, I’ve been caught!”
I glance at his other hand and see his is holding a packet of Twisties.
“Dad’s gonna shoot you,” I tell him, for they are Grumpy’s Twisties.
He quite likes Twisties (the cheese one’s only) and had been gifted a few packets for Christmas and his birthday. A couple more packets were added when I saw them on special at Coles the other day.
This packet, however, was nearing emptiness, courtesy of a thirteen-year-old boy, obviously starving as he has such horrible parents who never feed him. Or so the story goes.
“But there’s not much left in the pack,” he says, proffering it to me for visual inspection.
He’s right. There’s not. But I’m pretty damned sure that before I walked in it was close to half full. His hands aren’t as tiny as they used to be. Nor is his mouth … but that may be an entirely different entry. Or not.
“He’s still gonna shoot you,” I say and calmly suggest he desist before he digs himself into a deeper and sets him up for some sort of repercussion by his now Twisties-less father.
I then found myself the middle-mum of some father-son communication. Partly because they were both using my post-it notes for what occurred, so they were both telling me what they were up to.
I had to pretend to the other that I was clueless … and so a Twisties-gate of sorts began.
Over the weekend, Grumpy went to collect his half-pack from the storage receptacle where such snacks are kept.
Instead, he found and empty packet and a small post-it with the words “Don’t leave open Twistie packets lying around” written on it in teenage boy handwriting.
Wavering between pissed off and amused, he was not going to just accept this. He had to have the last word.
A “can I have a post-it note” was followed by a bit of pen action and “Don’t leave empty Twisties packets lying around”. He then placed the empty, noted packet under Monkey Boy’s pillow.
It only took a few nights before Grumpy found the same, empty packet inside one of his books, and the reply “No, Dad, I won’t”. Again, on one of my post-it notes.
(At least this is also explaining why my post-it note stash is dwindling rapidly!)
Grumpy is currently deciding how to proceed. I’m sure he is well aware of the silliness, but struggling with allowing Monkey Boy to have had the last say. It is a pathological trait of his, to have the last word and will do just about anything to get it.
Sadly, he has also passed this trait onto Monkey Boy.
This could take