Teenage
boys are Xbox playing, computer wielding zombies. Or at least my brother was…
My mother
would try to get him to do things…
And some of
them would be done, or half-done and then others would be forgotten...
She would
wake him up in the mornings for school after he spent all night pressing
buttons and staring fixedly at a screen.
But she
grew tired of all of this, she started to plot.
And plot.
And plot.
And finish
his chores.
Then one
day she decided to stay in bed. The longer she stayed wrapped-up in bed
thinking about how he would miss school the more empowered she felt.
Then when
it turned exactly time for school she hauled him out of bed.
Would he be
a bit late. Oh no, no, no. She had a better plan.
Before he had time to rub the sleep from his eyes she started issuing commands.
"You will build a shelf."
"You will run the dog."
"You will
chop wood and make fired."
"And then just as you think you are finished, just as you think you can sit down. That is when I will present you with the Bramble of Death...."
When he was finished she let him sit for a moment. Before a demonic smile took hold of her face and she issued the last blow of her ultimate revenge...
The next day, drunk on so much power, she woke to find that my brother was still in bed. She leapt from bed and stormed to his bedroom.
It was here that her outrage grew to such disproportionate levels that she chuckled mercilessly above her sleeping son.
So she did the only reasonable thing, she could think of, and dragged him from bed by his hair.
She then began a tirade on time-keeping and responsibility while gesturing at the clock.
It was then that my brother looked at the clock...
My mother was halted mid speech as she let the news sink in.
She realised she had jumped out of bed prematurely and my brother still had a rightful hour to go in bed. She retreated to the kitchen to question her sanity over her morning brew.

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