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Well, if it isn’t the belle of the ball.
In a stunning display of injustice, Mom and Dad–I mean someone else’s mom and dad–have lowered their standards for praise. Now, and here is the kicker, they haven’t lowered their standards for me, just my– I mean someone else’s–little brother. What’s that thing called again when someone has two separate sets of standards for different people? This reporter is having a hard time remembering.
Last Friday, little Rutherford overcame the gravitational challenges of his 18th century name and his fat fuck head to stumble 4 steps before collapsing under the weight of his own athletic magnificence. I mean, what a journey. Thank God my parents were there to shower him in positive reinforcement because without it I’m unsure if the kid with the object permanence of a pineapple would internalize how far he advanced civilization. These parents probably never heard the end of Neil Armstrong’s famous quote because they were applauding too loud after he said, “That’s one small step”.
What about this kid’s brother? Isn’t he walking to and from scary classes all day where smart people talk about important topics like projecting and narcissism? No, in a tragedy akin to a thousand 9/11s, all someone else’s mom talks about how excited she is to have the joyful pitter patter of little feet in her home while ignoring how brave her big boy is.
