I invited myself to a BBQ the other day. Since my "wife" wants to work a "job," I was stuck with "my kid." So I strapped "my kid" in his carrier and we walked over to the BBQ. "My kid" was sweet and quiet and pleasant and friendly and cheerful. Then I walked in the door and he tried to make me look bad by being a big ole baby. Whaaa this and whaaa that.
I'm "that guy" now.
"screaming kid guy at the BBQ guy"
So I left "my kid" at the damn BBQ--if he's going to be a jerk, that's what's up.
posted by sleepeater at 10:03 PM
2 Comments:
Don't worry about being that guy, your kid's gonna be the next Mozart. People shall be humbled when you attend their bbq's.
completely agree with l.l
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