Never interfere in other people’s business. Even if you think you’re helping them. Chances are, they won’t appreciate it and you’ll just get into trouble. Some wise person said ‘a kind deed never goes unpaid’. Sure, if you like getting paid in being grounded. Allow me to explain.
Even though the Pesky Brother is only eight, he acts like he’s 18. I know this because my parents are always saying “He’s eight going on 18” when people ask how old he is. They also give me these meaningful looks when they say this, as though it’s somehow my fault he acts like a teenager.
Apparently, me and my friends are a ‘corrupting influence’ on his sweet innocence. I mean we’re only three years older. How much can we possibly know? I always point out that none of us actually wants him to hang out with us, and it’s only because my parents wants him out of their hair we let him tag along. But ha! If you think they’ll accept THAT as the last word, think again. Apparently we should do ‘age appropriate things’ when he’s there. I’m not sure what they think we do when we hang out? Plot bloody coups?
In trouble
Anyway, the other day PB was singing a song filled with words that were beeped out, if you know what I mean. I don’t know where he heard it — but it wasn’t from me! Anyway, I told him he had to stop singing that song because it wasn’t appropriate and he’d get busted. Somehow my parents, who were in another room heard this (have they bugged our room) and were there in a micro second. What followed was nothing short of an interrogation.
“What’s not appropriate?”
“Huh? What? Hmm? Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing! It has to be something!”
“It’s just a song. I don’t know.”
“Where did he hear it?”
“Why are you asking me? He’s standing right here. Ask him!”
Of course, PB is doing an amazing impression of a stupefied zombie so there’s no way we’re getting an answer out of him.
“Okay. How do you know it’s inappropriate then? Where did you hear it?”
Busted.
“Errrr… V’s house.”
“Was there an inappropriate video as well?”
I realised that this was a good time to start looking like a stupefied zombie myself. Which meant I had to stand there for an hour — or what seemed like an hour — and listen to a long lecture. At the end of which I was told I couldn’t surf the net for a week. A WEEK!
It’s even worse for PB. He’s only allowed to watch Paw Patrol and Transformers cartoons from now on — with my parents! Hahahahahaha! Next time, I’m going to let him get caught and face the consequences of his actions, as my father says. But right now? I’m going to watch Transformers with the fam. What? Any TV is better than no TV!
