EXEMPLARY

Exemplary conversations between my adorable son and your's truly would go something like this.

Me: Where are you going?
Son: Out. (He's busy straightening his hair with iron appliance).
Me: Where are you going? (I repeated ever so sickly sweet).
Son: Out! (Still minding his locks because they get curly whenever he takes a shower or wets them).
Me: WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? (Raising my voice this time, trying to get a decent reply from my querries).
Son: FUCK OFF!!! (Put down the hair appliance that I always thought giving his hair more of a problem).
Me: Come again SIR? (My hands are all tied-up behind my back and picturing myself retrieving the sharpest knife I could find from the kitchen and started weilding it hysterically to this good for nothing hooligan, my mind kind of dim and all of sudden turned crimson like a grotesque scene pulled out from horror movies).
Son: I'd be back before you know. I promise...'LUV YAH!
Me: Just stay out of trouble, You hear?...(That calm me down, the thought of bludgeoning him to death is unnecessarry. I love this stupid pest. How can I do such a thing? I even adore his shoes that he just bought with his own hard earned money)You look like a drug dealer. (I added).
Son: Cool! (Exits).