My baby boy Brad likes to scratch and yawn and stretch. He loves YouTube and Facebook. He meticulously searches out articles on his favorite news stories and if he can locate a video that expands on the topic, he will watch it, all of it.
Today, sweet Brad yawned so loudly that I heard him over my music. Sweet and endearing. I wanted to go pat him on the back.
That is my little boy, my sweet, adorable man child. BRAD!
All of this would in actuality be so cute if Brad was actually my child or my nephew. Or 4!
He's not though. He is 28. Yes, that is in years, not dog years though he scratches like a hound.
He is grown, a fact that he often reminds me of. He is a man. Worst of all, he is my employee, at least until I return from vacation.
When I return from vacation, I am going to fire my baby boy. I am going to reveal to him that I have been monitoring his computer for the last 2 weeks, documenting and logging all of his useless activity so that I can fight him when he files unemployment.
I am going to crush him, most likely by grabbing his balls that he so loves to scratch and move around all day long, in my vice like grip.
Maybe I'll even use pliars.
Sweet dreams my sweet boy!
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