For goodness sake, if you aren’t really a lady, at least pretend to be one around me.This is not a treat, but a promise: I will sneak into my son’s room like a ninja and check his phone nightly for inappropriate sexts or naughty pictures so you best not be sending ’em.We don't need the short skirt AND the belly bearing top.
I don’t care how much my son likes it when you let your thongy freak flag fly. Look, I don’t mind tattoos per se but you’re a teenage girl and right now that tat is making you look like someone who doesn’t give a $#@& about her parents.
If you don’t give a $#@& about your own parents, then you most certainly won’t give a $#@& about me.
I SWEAR THAT ALL INFORMATION SUPPLIED ABOVE IS TRUE AND CORRECT TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, DISMEMBERMENT, NATIVE AMERICAN ANT TORTURE, CRUCIFIXION, ELECTROC UTION, CHINESE WATER TORTURE, RED HOT POKERS, AND HILLARY CLINTON KISS TORTURE. We’ve learned that young women can’t be trusted with control of their own dirty dirty lady bits, so we must protect our noble and pure young men from skanks and sluts.
Or orphans , who are immediately suspect I suppose because that makes it harder to guarantee their “lineage”. Rule Three: You must know how to cook as well as I have taught my son(s) to cook. I suffered through 42 hours of labor to have him, and will unleash an unimaginable amount of anger such that the movie 300 will look like an episode of the Little House on the Prairie should you cross me. Well we have learned that Moms can be just as sexist as Dads when it comes to young women.
In short, Michael’s rules, well, rule and I’m working to incorporate them into my parenting agenda for the next decade or so.