Post by ||teh {(mirage)} o doom. on Oct 11, 2007 16:23:49 GMT -5
Colin picks up Tariq, and I'm just at home. Colin gets home and starts SCREAMING at Tariq.
Just because Tariq wrote on his 70 dollar jacket with a crayon.
The crayon would wash out, I knew that. But Colin was freaking out like it was the end of the world that some light purple crayon got onto his gray jacket.
That mofo has pissed me off BEYOND count.
He THREW Tariq's CRAYONS ACROSS THE DINING ROOM AND HIT OUR FRONT WINDOW WITH A PACK OF FUCKING CRAYONS!
THAT FUCKING BASTARD NEEDS TO CONTROL HIS GOD DAMN ANGER!
He almost HIT ME ON THE HEAD WITH A PACKET OF FUCKING CRAYOLA TWISTABLE CRAYONS.
And Colin throws hard - believe me.
It BOUNCES OFF the window, and falls to the floor. I just barely missed it.
Colin's screaming at Tariq, who's laying on the floor crying.
Colin will never survive as a father, I'll tell you that much.
He screamed, stomped his foot on the floor as hard as he possible could, he threw crayons across the room, and he was SCREAMING.
I walked over to Tariq, while Colin was freaking out about his PRECIOUS jacket.
I set my hand out for Tariq to grab and get up, while he is laying on the floor CRYING his eyes out.
He stands up and takes his shoes off, and this is our convo (ever since colin threw the crayons):
C: TARIQ!
M(me): Ugh, okay, what happened? *walking into dining room*
C: *walking away from weeping tariq* He drew with Marker on my shirt!
M: Okay Tariq, come here. *helps tariq up*
T: I HATE YOU! I QUIT! *still sobbing*
M: Tariq. Say you're sorry to Colin. *is the only one not crying or screaming, and is the only one whose keeping their calm*
T: NO! *runs upstairs to his room*
M: Okay, what did he do?
C: He drew on my $70 jacket with a marker. *clenching teeth in fury while wiping jacket with DISH sponge*
M: Is this it? *holding light purple crayon up*
C: Yes. *still clenching and wiping*
M: It'll come off, Colin. It's crayola.
C: He DREW on my JACKET.
M: It'll come off, trust me.
C: Yeah, right. *sarcasm*
M: Really, like you know any more about stains than I do, Colin.
C: Shut up, Brea. Do you think I give a damn about what you say?
M: Well, I'm talking to Mom about how you almost hit me in the head with crayons while throwing them ACROSS the room and hitting the window!
C: And I'll talk to her about how he DREW on my jacket, wouldn't listen to me, get his stuff out of the car, and started screaming!
M: Colin, you'll never survive being a father. Never.
C: I DONT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT WHAT YOU SAY!
M: Whatever. *walks to computer* You still will never make a good dad.
C: *walks away*
I HATE HIS FUCKING GUTS! HE COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY INJURED MY HEAD!
THAT FUCKING 17-YEAR-OLD NEEDS TO LEARN THAT YOU CAN'T LET YOUR FUCKING ANGER OUT LIKE THAT! YOU NEED TO CALM YOUR FUCKING SELF DOWN OTHERWISE YOU CAN HURT SOMEONE OR BREAK SOMETHING! THAT DUMBSHIT DOESN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING JACKASS HE IS, AND HOW MUCH HE LETS HIS FUCKING ANGER GET THE BETTER OF HIM!
WHENEVER HE'D EVEN SCREW UP ON NINTENDO 64 WHEN HE WASN'T EVEN 13, HE'D TAKE OUT HIS FUCKING ANGER ON ME!!!
HIS ANGER GETS WAY OUT OF PORPORTION, AND I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE THAT THAT JACKSHIT OF A BROTHER GETS HIS ASS FUCKING WHOOPED. WHOOPED SO FUCKING HARD HE'LL STILL FEEL IT WHEN MY KIDS HAVE FUCKING KIDS!
><
Arrrrrghhh...
I'm so pissed off. Please excuse my language. *hands head in shame*
Just because Tariq wrote on his 70 dollar jacket with a crayon.
The crayon would wash out, I knew that. But Colin was freaking out like it was the end of the world that some light purple crayon got onto his gray jacket.
That mofo has pissed me off BEYOND count.
He THREW Tariq's CRAYONS ACROSS THE DINING ROOM AND HIT OUR FRONT WINDOW WITH A PACK OF FUCKING CRAYONS!
THAT FUCKING BASTARD NEEDS TO CONTROL HIS GOD DAMN ANGER!
He almost HIT ME ON THE HEAD WITH A PACKET OF FUCKING CRAYOLA TWISTABLE CRAYONS.
And Colin throws hard - believe me.
It BOUNCES OFF the window, and falls to the floor. I just barely missed it.
Colin's screaming at Tariq, who's laying on the floor crying.
Colin will never survive as a father, I'll tell you that much.
He screamed, stomped his foot on the floor as hard as he possible could, he threw crayons across the room, and he was SCREAMING.
I walked over to Tariq, while Colin was freaking out about his PRECIOUS jacket.
I set my hand out for Tariq to grab and get up, while he is laying on the floor CRYING his eyes out.
He stands up and takes his shoes off, and this is our convo (ever since colin threw the crayons):
C: TARIQ!
M(me): Ugh, okay, what happened? *walking into dining room*
C: *walking away from weeping tariq* He drew with Marker on my shirt!
M: Okay Tariq, come here. *helps tariq up*
T: I HATE YOU! I QUIT! *still sobbing*
M: Tariq. Say you're sorry to Colin. *is the only one not crying or screaming, and is the only one whose keeping their calm*
T: NO! *runs upstairs to his room*
M: Okay, what did he do?
C: He drew on my $70 jacket with a marker. *clenching teeth in fury while wiping jacket with DISH sponge*
M: Is this it? *holding light purple crayon up*
C: Yes. *still clenching and wiping*
M: It'll come off, Colin. It's crayola.
C: He DREW on my JACKET.
M: It'll come off, trust me.
C: Yeah, right. *sarcasm*
M: Really, like you know any more about stains than I do, Colin.
C: Shut up, Brea. Do you think I give a damn about what you say?
M: Well, I'm talking to Mom about how you almost hit me in the head with crayons while throwing them ACROSS the room and hitting the window!
C: And I'll talk to her about how he DREW on my jacket, wouldn't listen to me, get his stuff out of the car, and started screaming!
M: Colin, you'll never survive being a father. Never.
C: I DONT GIVE A DAMN ABOUT WHAT YOU SAY!
M: Whatever. *walks to computer* You still will never make a good dad.
C: *walks away*
I HATE HIS FUCKING GUTS! HE COULD HAVE SERIOUSLY INJURED MY HEAD!
THAT FUCKING 17-YEAR-OLD NEEDS TO LEARN THAT YOU CAN'T LET YOUR FUCKING ANGER OUT LIKE THAT! YOU NEED TO CALM YOUR FUCKING SELF DOWN OTHERWISE YOU CAN HURT SOMEONE OR BREAK SOMETHING! THAT DUMBSHIT DOESN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING JACKASS HE IS, AND HOW MUCH HE LETS HIS FUCKING ANGER GET THE BETTER OF HIM!
WHENEVER HE'D EVEN SCREW UP ON NINTENDO 64 WHEN HE WASN'T EVEN 13, HE'D TAKE OUT HIS FUCKING ANGER ON ME!!!
HIS ANGER GETS WAY OUT OF PORPORTION, AND I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE THAT THAT JACKSHIT OF A BROTHER GETS HIS ASS FUCKING WHOOPED. WHOOPED SO FUCKING HARD HE'LL STILL FEEL IT WHEN MY KIDS HAVE FUCKING KIDS!
><
Arrrrrghhh...
I'm so pissed off. Please excuse my language. *hands head in shame*