The year I was nine, my mother would cheerfully have sold me to the gypsies. Heck, she would likely have paid them to take me away. Although I was a relatively good kid for most of my childhood, for some reason I was a completely rotten little brat that particular year.
Like many mothers, at some point (probably during that year) she must have put the famous curse on me, the one that goes like this: "May you have children just like you!" Because I have at least one of those, and right now he is driving me up a frigging tree.
I have HAD IT with the arguing and resistance and backchat. And since I try very hard both to be careful about what I threaten and to follow through with what I have threatened when challenged, a most-beloved DS has gone into extended exile as of this evening.
If this is indeed the mother's curse I'm experiencing, I sure as hell hope it only lasts the one year, and that this is his equivalent of the year I was nine. If not, I'm really in for it. Especially since I haven't seen any gypsies recently.