BEWARE OF THE MAN CHILD

My one and only man child is having sick (?) day from school.

Within the first 5 minutes of him getting out of bed this morning he flooded the bathroom by turning on the tap behind the washing machine.  He wanted to see what it was used for.  Um……it’s a tap?

He then called the dog inside because, “She looks miserable Kooks”.  His x-ray vision astounds me.  She was in her kennel at the time.

The dog, so happy to be allowed indoors, ran all over the house, jumped on the beds with her muddy paws and stank the house out with her wet dog smell.  We are still choking on the fumes from the bottle of Glen 20 he emptied to disguise her stench.

In his attempt to clean up the muddy puddles he managed to break the mop.  How? I will only find out when I die.

So I ordered him back to bed before I killed him and all was quiet until he decided he was hungry.

As sick as he is, (cough, cough) he cooked himself a bowl of noodles.  Well of course the noodles upended themselves in an unopened drawer as well as sploshing all over the floor.  I forgot to mention that the first packet of noodles had, only minutes before, boiled over on the stove top.

I quickly left him to it and ambled through the bush until I worked up the courage to return to the house.  I was surprised to find it still standing and even more surprised when I was greeted with,

“Well really Kooks,” he said with a confident smile.  “It’s all your fault. You gave birth to me!”

Let’s just say he’s back in bed and is not to appear for at least a week or two. Or even better, a year or two.

Anyone want to join the newly formed Parents of Man Children Support Group? Better hurry to put your name down, there’s sure to be a waiting list.

May God bless their giant cotton socks.

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Photo cred Spreadshirt.com.au