Saturday, February 5, 2011


Eleven year old is nagging and whining about wanting Facebook four years sooner than I am ready to allow it.

I explain that I need to see some maturity and that nagging and whining is not very mature.

The remainder of the day is comprised of:

Two hours of sulking and filthy looks aimed at me over a game of Mariocart.

4 hours of fun filled social activity.

Roughly 45 minutes of compliance, which is made up of doing what she's been asked to do without whining and then flagging how mature she's being in case I fail to notice.

"So, can I have Facebook now?"


"Can I have a back tickle?"


  1. Stand your ground. I'm 30, and my mom still won't let me sign up for Facebook.

    OK, that's not true.

    I'm 30 and four months.

  2. Oh Max. Who hath dined on Beau's poo. It was an honour. Rest and bless his soul dear old man.
    My friend if I could write like you can write. It's gold.