Last night for instance, my gf down the street texted me and asked me if I had a stick of butter she could borrow. Of course, being the sweet thing that I am,
I lean over my COD playing man, kiss him on the forehead and utter my famous lie. This was at seven thirty. When I returned home at nine, the kid was downstairs, in her fathers spot on the couch watching her weekly dose of Switched at Birth, her new obsession. With a smug grin on her face, she sarcastically chastises me for my tardiness.
Kid: "Right back, huh?"
Me: "Well you know KT, she can talk. It was nearly impossible for me to leave."
Kid: "Yes mom, I'm sure it was all her talking"
Me: "Well we haven't seen each other in like, two days and she has a puppy"
Kid: "How old are you, thirteen?"
Me: "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Kid: "A. I'm seventeen, 2. It's summer and C. It's only nine o' clock."
Me: "Yeah, so isn't it time for you to get a job and get out?"
Kid: "Umm, you told me I can't leave until I'm twenty."
Me: "Oh yeah. Fine, whatever. Just keep your mouth shut for the rest of your residency. By the way, when did Pa go to bed?"
Kid: "About a half hour after you left, just about the time he realized that you wouldn't be right back."
Me: "Watch it smart ass, I'll put you up for adoption."
Kid: " You always say that, I think you may be a compulsive liar."
Me: "You don't even know what that is."
Kid: ... ... ... ...
Kid: "Please stop talking now, my show is back on"
And that was my Monday night.
See ya tomorrow.