I’ve often said that when it comes to my kids’ future, I’ve got save up college money for the first kid; and for the second kid, bail money.  In turn, I’m often told that I’m being a dick to the second kid – Kid Dos – and that he’s a simply a precocious child.  The people who tell me this don’t live with this kid.  They aren’t exposed to one iota of what this kid is capable of.

Here, you decide:

  • When he was about two, still in diapers, he was able to waddle around a bit and was often rather adventurous around the house.  So one day, he lowered the lid on the toilet in his bathroom, stepped on top of it, used it to climb over to the bathroom sink, sat in it, and turned on both taps – hot and cold.  The water ran and ran, filling up his makeshift pool.  When we caught him, he laughed his little ass off.  The only reason he didn’t flood the bathroom was because his diaper did its job and soaked up most of the water.  He looked like a kid growing out of a water balloon.
  • One evening, I’d taken the boys out to for dinner at a diner.  While I was waiting for the check, I got a call on my mobile and I took it.  While I was on the phone, Kid Dos started playing with the venetian blinds on the window next to our booth.  I warned him once, a second time, a third time before threatening him with a massive time out.  When he failed to listen, I dealt the time out, to be served at home.  To which Kid Dos threatens back, “Daddy, I don’t want a time out – if you give me a time out, I’m going to sell the car.”  WTF.
  • At last year’s village street fair, the elder kid – Kid Uno – came home with a little goldfish he “won” at the pet store.  Great, thanks for making me have to buy all the fish crap I didn’t have to buy before.  We named him “Sushi” and that fish lived happily in a small bowl right in the dining room.  This year, the kids went to the street fair again, and each came back with a new goldfish: Kid Uno brought back “Comet” and Kid Dos brought home “Zachary”.  They put both their two new fish in with the previous year’s goldfish, Sushi.  Two days later, Kid Dos’ fish turned the other two fish into Luca Brasi.  Or the actual fish wrapped in newspapers that came to represent Luca Brasi.  Either way, we now had two dead fish.  Zachary has the place all to himself now.  You do the fucking math.  Only Kid Dos would have killer goldfish.
  • After kicking up a big fuss in the back of the car because he couldn’t get his way (again), Kid Dos grumpily asked the missus to put down his window as she was driving along. “Mommy, put my window down.”  “I’d like you to use polite words: please”  “Mommy, please put my window down.”  She pushed the button, down went the window.  Kid Dos picks up the large road atlas from the pocket behind the passenger seat and vengefully flings it out the window.  Big road map… out the fucking window.  Who the fuck does shit like that?!
  • When caught doing something he oughtn’t do, he’ll look you straight in the eye and say, “I didn’t do it.  God did it.”
  • A while ago, I’d heard a ridiculous story about how a mom didn’t trust her daughter’s boyfriends so whenever a boyfriend came to the house, he wasn’t to be left unattended.  If he was, she’d insist that the boyfriend clap his hands repeatedly while she was out of the room so that she could be sure he weren’t stealing anything.  How fucking ridiculous and awful.  Hilarious, but still so wrong.  And that’s the idea that popped into my head when I was having trouble with Kid Dos in public restrooms – the little shit wouldn’t stop touching things in there.  He’d touch the walls, he’d touch the trash can, he even once reached into the urinal and try to pick up the pee pee puck.  What the fuck, kid.  When I take him to the bathroom, I usually take the opportunity to take a slash myself.  So when he’s done, I make him stand behind me, make him hold his hands together and “don’t touch anything” while I go.  Except he does.  So I asked him to start clapping his hands – that’d keep him from touching things.  I realized immediately how retarded it is to stand at a urinal while a small boy stands behind you clapping his hands.  Fucking hell.  I wouldn’t need to go through this stupidity if the kid would just keep his hands to himself.  Goddamnit.

I’m not even going to bother to go into the full bite he put on the wrist of the missus as he was getting checked by the doctors recently.  Shark Week started early for her this year.