The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Monday, January 19, 2004

“Your poutfoo is no match for me!”

It seems that The Kids found out where I hid the remote. The Younger strode into the Computer Room and headed straight for it. “No,” I said. “You are not to get the remote.”

“But why not?” said the Younger. “I need it!” He gave me his angry pouting stare, and sat down on the other chair in the room. Well, it's not actually sitting per se, more of a squirming ever moving sitting.

“Do you know why I'm hiding it?”

“Yea,” he said. “Mom told us earlier.”

“So you realize it's because I hate playing ‘Find the Remote’ every single night. So no more remote for you.”

The Younger then switched to his pouty-angry stare, sat there whining and squirming for another few seconds, then ran off. Two minutes later he completely forgot about the remote and was yelling at his brother to switch the channel.

And to think I was worried that The Kids just didn't care about the remote and my actions would have no effect.


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