hanging tough

Saturday night FarmBarbie and I hit WalMart with the intention of stocking up on snack food for family movie night, and while perusing the salsa selection ran into some kids we knew from church a long time ago. Unfortunately for one of these kids, he also happens to have done his best to get our brother in trouble at school. We were going to be nice and not say anything, because sometimes we are TOO FRICKIN’ POLITE. But PunkKid decided to allude to the fact that “Fredd hates me.” Oh really? Why is that? *polite chuckle, as though it would be impossible to hate this charming child* PunkKid guffawed. “Ask him. Just mention my name to him.” At this point it took all our self-control to charmingly and sweetly say, “Oh, we heard about that” instead of hissing through clenched teeth. “Don’t. Ever. Do. Anything. To. Him. Again. We know where you live, we know where your sisters work, we are bigger, taller, stronger than you, and have NO QUALMS ABOUT BEATING UP PEOPLE SMALLER THAN US IF THEY ARE PUNKISH BULLIES.”
But instead we were charming, and sweet, and nice and didn’t say what we felt like saying, saving it all for the blog.
I’m just saying, is all.

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~ by wildeyedwonder on February 21, 2005.

One Response to “hanging tough”

  1. First of all, I cannot believe you admitted we go to Wal-Mart. Completely and totally chav.

    Secondly, she failed to mention I gave in to the worldy impulse and threatened them with a smile and batting of eyelashes. If they EVER lay a finger on Fredd, I will hunt them down and kick their sorry asses.

    With a smile.

    So it was taken nicely.

    Class. All that good stuff.

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