I walked out into the living room last night wearing sweats and a huge sweatshirt I found in the laundry room.
My teenage son said, “That is my shirt! You can’t start taking my stuff.”
Did he really say that? The son who takes EVERYTHING we own to the point that we have to hide our belongings and lie about it? That we sometimes lock the office door so he can’t borrow computer items? That anytime a tool is missing, we immediately know who to blame? The son who eats the last bit of food in the refrigerator?
Yeah, he is never getting his damn sweatshirt back again. And I am going to wear it every day.
