His Majesty, King Dudley

My children's daddy "worked late" again last night, but hear this, he actually gave me prior notice, and apologised for yesterday's episode!

:::faints:::

And when he came home, ate and fell asleep, his snores sounded like a little kitten purring.

:::Too cute:::

Since I actually had some notice this time, dinner was on the table by 6:00 pm. Dinner was a simple fare and consisted of pork tenderloin, lima beans, rice, and buttered white bread with fruit cups for dessert, and milk for the beverage. I opted for a tofu salad wrap, and a glass of Tang as the thought of eating dead animals seriously grosses me out. I also had some rice and lima beans.
Apparently, none of these options were good enough for my step-son, so he refused to eat, and went to bed hungry. So thus, part of his new nickname is born. "His Majesty King" I'll get to the Dudley part ( the fat kid from Harry Potter ) in a bit.

My son decided last night, that he wanted some attention from me, and that he wasn't too cool or grownup for it,

:::shocking:::

So we went outside for a bit, to kick the soccerball around. We were mostly just kicking it into the fence, as I can't afford one of those stupid net things. Whatever, the fence is metal, works just fine, and if playing a game, the road works well enough for the other net. Anyway, we were taking turns kicking the ball into the fence when the ball accidentally hit the side of the house, which caught His Majesties attention. He declared the soccerball his, refused to share it, and promptly put it away.
My son then decided then he would play with the football instead. I assure you that the ball never even got to leave the house before His majesty took it away also, and squirreled it off somewhere.
So a bit annoyed, my son decided to take the guitar down, and well, it never even made it off the shelf.
That my dear reader explains the "Dudley" part. If that child could figure out how to hog air, we would all be turning funny colors and gasping.
I told their Daddy when he got home, that Santa would be bringing a soccerball, football, and a guitar and putting them under the tree for my son. That should at least fix His Majesty Dudley's "But it's miiiiiiine." whiney excuse.
Either way, I most certainly paid for that bit of exercise this morning. Had two seizures before I even had my first cup of coffee. Guess that will teach me to forget that I am old and sick.