http://www.theonion.com/opinion/index.php?issue=4047****snip****
For years, you run your ass ragged telling your kids "No, you can't go to swimming lessons," "No, you're not going to get a clarinet," and "Just shut the fuck up about the after-school soccer team." There's never a moment's peace. They won't stop annoying you with stupid questions about why the sky is blue, or what trees eat to stay alive. Then one day the stupid questions stop, you look up, and they're glaring at you with their little zit-faces, refusing to say a word. That means one of two things: Either they got into the cough syrup or their childhood is over.
Every parent goes through the same process. You find out you knocked someone up, and, once you're sure you can't get out of it, you have about seven months to run around before she shits out the kid and you never get to relax again ever. I mean, in no time, they go from screaming, stinking, toothless babies to pantsless, snot-nose brats who draw on the TV screen with the crayons they didn't eat. Before you know it, you're pushing 40, the Cowboys haven't won a Super Bowl in years, and the kids are getting old enough to hit back.
You know it's coming, but it's still kind of a shock when they turn out to have devious little minds of their own. You notice 20 bucks missing out of your coat pocket here, a couple cans of beer gone from the fridge there. Before you know it, you're finding cigarette butts and airplane glue out in the garage and noticing mysterious dents on the car. At that point, you have to admit that they're exploring the world on their own, I guess. It's only a matter of time before they head out into the world to find out what a bitch life is and how fucking good they had it all along, the ungrateful cocksuckers.
****snip****
HA!:evilgrin:
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