Mother’s Day.
What is this shenanigans? It’s Mother’s Day! I should wake up to brunch, a dozen roses, and a loving card from my two sons. Instead I find this taped to my bathroom mirror…
Am I really that bad? Am I Faye Friggin Dunaway? My sons have never seen me running around the house with Ponds all over my face, screaming NO WIRE HANGERS! Do I look like this!!? Have I ever done this??
I admit I’ve done this….
But certainly never THIS…
I’m not one of those OTHER Company parents who completely wiped their behinds with their children. I didn’t walk out the door on my tubby son with nothing more than a head pat and $120 to carry him through a weeks worth of tasty treats at the Winchel’s. My children are not electric psychopaths in need of Haldol to the point that they even freak out Sylar. My children aren’t pining over stick figure drawing druggies, they just pine over the ones that pining. Ridiculous shenanigans!
If their father was in a grave, he’d be turning in it.
I say to my two sons to take personal responsibility for themselves, once and for all! Their powers are not my fault on purpose, and it isn’t my problem that they aren’t mentally equipped to deal with them. So Nathan can fly. Whoop de do! So can anyone on a good acid trip. So Peter is absorbent like a giant “emo” sponge. (Is that what you kids are saying these days? Emo? It was the hair, wasn’t it?)
Additionally, people, and by people I mean MY CHILDREN, need to get over Kirby plaza already. Common sense would tell anyone with a brain that hasn’t been turned into a canape by Mr. Gray, that if Peter has been in contact with his niece that HE CAN HEAL HIMSELF AND HENCE HEAL AFTER SAID EXPLOSION. In as much, since he’s been with Nathan his WHOLE LIFE, it’s his problem that he couldn’t simply propel upwards and save the city himself. But Nathan had to butt in and screw everything. Peter could have been a hero. Nathan could have had a government job with full benefits. I could have had a cocktail and a hot date with Daniel Linderman. But NO! No one listens to me. No matter how fist over arse backwards my dastardly plans are, I know what I am doing and I am ALWAYS right! Do not question my authoritay!
<--Perhaps this is something Parkman Jr. can aspire to one day. The thought stealing maniac!
I’ll give you wire hangers! Brats! How dare they! I was forced to make my own brunch! At least I’m skilled enough to make my cappuccino look pretty, as seen here…
Then I went out and stole some socks to self soothe.
Super Human Spoiled Brats! Hmph!