About my next childSo B has been a bit broody (rising *mumbles* so the hormones are telling her her breeding days are ending) but don't panic, no way am I ever having another kid. So I tell her that, and she's like, yeah but it would be a handsome kid. Which it would. I have some great genes and all my kids are choice looking. Hers aren't bad either: she's quite pretty if the light's coming from the right direction.
So we were discussing kids' names and we agreed on Shark Mindfuck because we're both unemployed weedsmoking bogans, so what else would we call him? (And yes it would be a him. I only have man spunk left.) Thinking about Shark has sparked B's creative nerve, and now she has a full picture of him. She pictures him after his birth, being offered the boob and refusing it, demanding warm blood.
I said, well, he'll have the Rule cock gene (skipped a generation but Naughtyman has a wang that would make many grown men envious--I don't get complaints but no one faints on seeing it, let's put it like that) and that means double-figure inches. He wouldn't be a vegetarian. In fact, just like all my kids, he wouldn't go near a vegetable. He'd thrive on steak. Or other children's legs. "Shark," we'd say, "where did you get that bone?" Not that he'd answer. We wouldn't know whether Shark was meeting his developmental milestones in talking because he'd prefer to communicate in grunts.
We imagine the school phoning us. "We're sorry, Mr R, but we have to ask you to remove Shark from our school. We were willing to put up with him scaring other boys with his penis and assaulting his teacher, but he spent second break yesterday with his teeth fastened around little Jasmine's jugular. You do know he files his teeth?"
Not that he'd need an education. He'd steal anything he wanted, or pulverise anyone who got in his way. B says Shark would be giving the education, teaching us things we'd never dreamt of. Like how to get brains out of the carpet.