So every other day, Benny comes over and hangs out with us. Except for the other day when Faith went to, as the Reverend Mother put it, “Hang out with the monks” at the seminary/monastery.
Which made me veeerry suspicious. They could be doing anything!!! You know those wily monks. They’re right up there with ninja cows. You just can’t trust ’em. So, naturally, I donned all black clothes, packed a couple of knives (I just got a new one, a nice Marine Corps knife), and was off to the monastery. As I spied, I made sure that nothing… er … ‘interesting’ was going on*. *Sigh* Nothing ever does. Every time we take Benny home, they talk about boring theological stuff that makes me fall asleep. But I resist!!! I must, because it could be a devious plan to talk about the most boring things in the world and make me fall asleep so that they can start doing ‘interesting’ stuff. It won’t work! I won’t let it!!!! I REGRET NOTHING!!!!!
…
Where did that come from?
Whatever.
Usually I sit in the back seat of the car and read with my good eye while keeping my evil eye on them. BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Sometimes I enjoy this too much. Not often, but sometimes. A lot of times it’ll be late by the time we have to take Ben home. I wanted to charge Faith 25 cents for every minute past 9:30 pm that we were out taking Ben home. It would’ve worked, but when I asked Mom about it, she said no. If I have to do this anyway, why not make some money while I’m at it? I don’t have any other form of income except for my allowance until I get a job.
Man, this sucks.
*This never actually happened. This is purely in my head and for my own amusement.
Ciao for now!!
Just think how good this will look on your resume some day when you’re an ass-kicking, martial arts/weapon’s master bodyguard for some international billionaire jetsetting around the world.
Or not.
But Tiger, we do appreciate you and the job that you have to do. Granted, we can’t wait until we can ditch you, but I mean that in a very loving way. One day I’m sure we’ll be a lot more interesting, but for everything there is a season (and this just happens to be a season that bores you to tears).
And you know, they occasionally buy you stuff, like ice cream. But don’t let that distract you. Be ever vigilant.
You better let your dad test the ice cream first to be sure they didn’t lace it with sleeping pills.
Bring me a spoon.
You know, Dad, I think they laced it with forgetfulness pills. You already tasted it. 3 times.
Hey!! My birthday’s in 2 days!