Boy is home sick from school today. By his coughing and constant temperature taking and drama, you’d think that he was on death’s door, clutching his chest, and shouting to Elizabeth that he’s coming home to her … ya know, right up until the 30 minutes at a time that he’s allowed to watch TV or have the Xbox on – during which I hear not so much as a clearing of the throat.
When we were eating lunch, we had the following conversation:
ya know, it’s sad that gramps is going to retire because i think he’s filthy, stinkin’ rich, and he doesn’t even have a lamborghini yet, but i guess he has worked hard so he deserves a break
Umm, yeah, he definitely deserves to retire, and he has made a lot of money but has had to spend a lot too for his other businesses so he isn’t really filthy, stinkin’ rich.
well, when i get older, i’m going to work at mcdonald’s and save all my money and get a lamborghini
Really? Do you know how much they pay at McDonald’s?
McDonald’s pays less than I make.
If you even want a shot at a lamborghini, you’d better plan on going to college … or magically developing some incredible talent in football … or basketball … or baseball
(sighs with resignation, but then announces determinedly: )
well, i guess i gotta go to college then.
wait a minute, you went to college, mom; why don’t you have a lamborghini?
Hey, by that math, your dad should have two of them.