Big Ugly Man Doll

I stepped out of the shower to the sound of a clicking keyboard and mouse, which are not altogether uncommon sounds in our house.  Girding myself with my towel and my prodigious ego, I walked from bathroom to bedroom and looked, along the way, into my office, where I found someone using my computer – also not altogether uncommon.  What was uncommon was that it was the Reigning Queen of Pink and not Number One Son, who is more usually engaged in playing some vile game on my PC, on the grounds that the games don’t play as fast on his own machine.  (For the record, this is true.)  The following conversation ensued:

BUMD:  You’re not the hatchling I expected to see typing on my computer!  I figured that noise was your brother.
RQoP:  Yeah it was him but I traded him and now I’m using it.
BUMD: Wait, what? He traded you something he doesn’t really own for…  What did you trade with him?
RQoP:  He went downstairs to watch TV and I get to use your computer, and I agreed not to annoy him for the rest of this afternoon AND tomorrow all day.
BUMD:  Do you think you can live up to your end of that bargain?
RQoP:  I don’t know, maybe?

The boy’s a regular Donald Trump – go do what you want to be doing anyway, get someone else to pay you for it, and leverage the whole deal with someone else’s money.  I tried to explain to her that I was being nice to her in just providing room and board, but she refused to extend me the same bargain.  Towel, ego, and I continued to the bedroom, still shaking my head and thinking about how to get in on that action.

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