The Sunday Post, XXXV

Forgive me readers of w(t)f for it’s been 1 month since my last Sunday Post. As I mentioned in the last video hour, I was going to get back on track with the writing. Sure, there will still be video, but writing will continue to be the mainstay here. Of course, keep an eye on my Viddler stream as I will be posting things there and not always reposting them here.


A few things going on in the db-isphere of late. Today I shall like to talk a bit about the lad.

He’s had a pretty rough couple of weeks.

To start the hit parade, we need to go back to the 14th. He was busted for throwing food. Of course, I find out about the day before he has to spend Saturday morning at school. Then we can move on a bit to last Wednesday. This is the day he decided to not only lie to me, but also to his grandparents. Yes, both of them. I might have been a little pissed. Maybe. Still had to take him to Vegas which worked out since nobody here wanted to spend any time with him. Lovely.

We got back and something happened on Monday, but I don’t remember what it was. I proceeded to take away his phone for whatever it was. After I got home from dropping him off on Tuesday, I discovered that his phone was no longer on the table where it was the night before and it actually ended up in his pocket.

Yes, I was pissed.

So Wednesday night I got home from work and he knew well in advance of my mood. Nothing that he did that night helped. I was pissed.

But I also had a plan.

You see, this has been on going for quite a while. Maybe 6th grade, maybe 7th. Whatever. He failed the 8th grade altogether which I think I have mentioned, but the powers that be decided to advance him anyway. But that’s a post for another day. Needless to say I was done. I was, actually, beyond done.

So, I fired him.

The lad is no longer captain of Team teh lad. That honor has been assumed by your truly. No, instead he has been busted down to fat kid that got picked last and doesn’t have a seat on the bench. A point I made with him as he was standing on the cold cement outside after doing 10 push-ups. At which point I made him do 5 more and hold the position until he couldn’t hold it anymore. Then I made him stay that way for another 30 seconds. When I let him stand, his arms were shaking and he wasn’t allowed to look at me. Instead, he was turned around while I took the next 10 minutes to let him know just how bad of shape he was truly in.

And I sent him directly to his room, door closed, to write 10 pages on the importance of getting good grades. After an hour he managed 5 pages of bullshit, so made him do it again.

Thursday and Friday he walked the 3.5 miles to school. Thursday it almost rained, and I was bummed that it wasn’t. Tomorrow he will walk that same 3.5 miles to school, and walk home when he is done. While he is at Saturday school, he will have the chance to write 15 pages on the importance of the truth. A document I hope to reading this fine Sunday Morning over coffee.

And you know menial labor will be involved this weekend as well. My parents have left their 30′ travel trailer here, and I’m sure it could use a good scrubbing. Possibly with a toothbrush, but I haven’t fully decided yet. Oh, and I also fully expect the front yard to weed free and every rock perfectly raked by the end of the weekend as well.

How long will this continue? For as long as he decides to be a fuck up. When he does something good, he’ll get a reward. When he does something bad, pushups on the gravel will be his battle cry. As more good is done, the rewards will get better. Heck, he might even get his camera back by August. Not sure about the lappy.

He has done everything possible to hurt and embarrass me over the last 4 years. I think it’s only fair that I return the favor. You really have no idea how embarrassing it is to have your child lie to not only his teachers, but to your own parents. The words do not exist. The really don’t.

It should be fun. Updates as they allow.

By Don

Lead bottle washer at, host at and tech guru for the MotoringFile family of sites.

1 comment

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.