A will of iron, I have not.

I'm in a quandary.

I write a humor column for our local rag. I write this blog that I like to think has a humorous slant to it. And I've got a thirteen year old son who's forever doing goofy crap.

For example, this morning I found him in the bathroom with a plastic syringe sucking water out of the toilet, then emptying it in a cup. When the cup was full he'd dump it down the sink and refill it with toilet water.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I wanted to see what the toilet would look like without any water."

*crickets*

"So you're using that little plastic syringe? Why didn't you just turn off the water to the toilet and flush it until the tank is empty?"

"Yeah, I didn't think of that."

"I can't believe that it's a school morning, we're already running late and this is what you feel requires your attention. Do you have your lunch? Your homework? Your backpack packed and ready?"

"Yes."

What else could I do? I turned off the water to the toilet and began flushing. Somehow or another it didn't work. Once the tank was empty there was still water in the bowl and no way to get it out. The boy held up the syringe, smiling and nodding his head.

So what's the quandary?

Ever since I wrote a column many years ago about my then five-year-old son and how he said "It feels good to poop," he's forbidden me to write about him.

This is going to take a lot of willpower.

Comments

[Pambasilea]

That is awesome. But a promise is a promise, and you did just kind of write about it anyway.

[Lisa]

You are so in trouble.

[Pam]

This is really funny! I love the boy.