My 17 year old son Sebastian compared me to a James Bond villain last week. Maybe he was referring to Dr. No, or Mr. Big, or maybe even Paco “Pistols” Scaramanga, though I would prefer to be Dr. Evil from Austin Powers.
You see, I had inflicted pain on him, and he saw me react in delight. I tried to politely discuss his affinity for video games, but he wasn’t interested in a conversation. So, the more he gamed, the more I stewed. And then on the second day of school, I came home from work and saw him gaming. I grabbed his head phones and jumped on them until they were crushed into 100 pieces. He couldn’t believe my joy.
After I regained my composure, I made him a nice bowl of Risotto Cacio e Pepe con Gamberi. I may be Dr. Evil, but Mini Me knows that the real villain is that big screen (and the small one too).
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