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i'll haunt you forever

You know that book Love You Forever? Thatís the one with the mom who has such an unhealthy attachment to her son that she practically stalks him after he leaves home, going as far as sneaking into the sonís bedroom in house across town to rock him. I always found this book a bit on the creepy side. But I'm rethinking that now. The mother in that book had a great idea, she just didn't execute it properly. Of course, I have a plan. I'm going to wait until both my kids are off on their own. Then I am going to embark upon a psyops mission of revenge. See, this is what the mother in the book does:
He left home and got a house across town. But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. If all the lights in her son's house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
I'm going to get into my care on dark nights and drive across town as well. And if all the lights are out, I'm going to open a window, or pick a lock or do whatever I have to do to get in the house. First, my son's house. I will reach into my bag of ammunition and pull out the Legos and small action figures. I will spread them across his bedroom floor so that when he gets up, he will step on them, causing much pain. That's for all the Legos I stepped on, buddy boy. Then I will get myself a glass of orange juice. I'll spill a few drops of juice on the kitchen floor, just enough to make it sticky. Then I'll attempt to wipe it up with one of his clean socks. I'll go in his bathroom and leave a wet towel on the floor. I"ll finish off his toilet paper and not replace it. Then, for the coup de gr‚ce, I will wait until 6am (this will be a Saturday morning) and I will plug in his electric guitar and start playing some four chord song over and over and over again. I'll sneak out the window before he can see me. Oh, he'll figure it out. And he'll know. And he will spend each night wondering if I will be back for more revenge. My revenge on the daughter will be much simpler. I am going to make a deal with Satan to ensure that my she ends up with a daughter exactly like her. Then I will drive across town every evening and sit in her living room and laugh and laugh and laugh at the exruciating mental torture her teenage daughter is putting her through. Hey, it works for my mother.


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That was pretty funny stuff, although from your point of view it might be grim reality. I've forwarded the link to my mother who LOVES the book in question. I'm certain that she'll be horrified beyond belief.

But... what does that leave in store for me? your daughter is more like me than you... so.... OH GOD! I may end up with what should have been our other sister's daughter! ACK!!!!!!!!!!!! You got off lucky...

Wishes do come true. My eldest daughter now has a daughter who is exactly like her. Drives her nuts. Oh how sweet it is.

That book was so disturbing on a number of levels. I don't know what bothered me more, the breaking and entering via a 2nd story window, the Oedipal Complex, the extreme narcolopsy of the son (why else wouldn't he wake up) or the 90 pound old woman hefting her big son like a baby. Thanks for the nightmare fuel.

When my sister was still living with her, my mother racked up a massive phone bill calling grandma to appologize for everything she'd done when she was young.

"I will plug in his electric guitar and start playing some four chord song over and over and over again."

Oh, so you are going to rock him. WOOO! Rock and roll!

My mother made that pact with Satan, as well.

"I hope you get a son EXACTLY like you!"

She forgot she'd be babysitting ... :)


though it might be difficult, i'd also recommend "wetting" the toilet seat (that's the only nice way i could think of to say it) so that when he sits down, his...er, bum gets soaked...if i could get my boys to raise the toilet seat, i'd sacrifice a leg...

This entry, Michelle, is what makes you the Queen. You rock.

I hope that when I have kids someday they aren't anything like I was as a kid so I can parade them around their grandparents and prove to them once and for all that they were wrong -- That I will NEVER have to deal with what they had to deal with. Pffffbbbt! Then I'll stick out my tongue at them.

That book was so disturbing I had to get it out of my house. I got it for a shower gift and was mortified. Your ideas are way better. Sounds like you have been to my house.

I too got it as a shower gift and thought it was sick! It is just wrong on so many levels. Now your take on it I could get into.

Legos! I can recall when I was about eight or so, I must have owned thousands of Legos. I used to spend days assembling a variety of Lego castles, ships, aircraft, etc. Inevitably, many would wind up in corners of rooms, underfoot, etc. After clogging the vacuum with a Lego, for what must have been the hundredth time, my Dad stated that he would throw 'em all out if it ever happened again.

Well, I took that for a mere threat. Was I ever wrong. The SOB threw 'em all out, all right. I must have had hundreds of dollars worth of the things. I never underestimated Dad again.

I'm not a parent but I have younger sisters and a brother, so I have uhm sharp memories of legos digging into my feet.

I also still have that instinct that makes you leap across the room and catch a plate in mid air before it hits the floor.

Another thing I plan to do when the kids are on their own and invite us for dinner....a dinner which they've worked long and hard on...is to take one look at the food and declare it disgusting and then demand butter noodles or macaroni and cheese instead.

And at Xmas when all the gifts have been opened I shall look at them incredulously and say "is that all you bought for me?"

I once had a perfect duplo/lego 4 dot bruise on the bottom of my foot.

My revenge will be jax and bouncy balls, alllllll over the floor. Have you ever seen the damage these little caltrops do to a person's foot? Oh, and midi's of the bloody Kingdom Hearts theme.... My parents hit me with the curse and I got 2 girls just like me, so I'm pretty sure my parental whammy will also stick and stick well...
and I hope they're twins ;)

When my son figured out how to unlock the door at age 2, and fled the house for parts unknown, nekkid as a jaybird, my mother laughed.

When my son smeared his own feces all over himself, his walls, his furniture - again, at age 2, my mother just laughed.

When my son - still 2 - microwaved the kitchen timer for ten minutes while I was in the shower, causing a complete conflagration of our kitchen, my mother just laughed.

When my son fed the entire contents of his bedroom out his second-floor window (I caught him just as he was tipping his mattress off the sill) in the attempt to make a landing-pad for his Spiderman jumps, my mother just laughed.

When my son - now three - figured out how to get the keys out of mommy's pocketbook, sneak out into the garage at three AM, and START THE CAR in the closed and carbon monoxide-filled garage, my mother just laughed. Nervously, but she laughed.

She says I was worse, much worse.

I don't believe it. It HAS to be false recollection. It HAS to be!

PS - I thought "The Runaway Bunny" was much creepier! ;)

"Then I will get myself a glass of orange juice. I'll spill a few drops of juice on the kitchen floor, just enough to make it sticky. Then I'll attempt to wipe it up with one of his clean socks."

He will have clean socks?

What kind of boy are you raising?

Hmmmm....sounds like my grandmother did quite a revenge number on my mother.

A Trotskite union starter who was involved in some of the not so nice anti war groups has raised a Reagan Republican, an indifferent apolitcal and an outright facist.

That book sounds just... wrong.

Funny, I'm more like my father than my mother. And working hard not to be like either of them.

I'm glad to hear I wasn't the only one who was a little creeped out by that book.

My mother, God bless her soul, laid the curse upon me in 1976. I am her only son, the brother of three sisters that followed me.

My sweet teenage daughters are both amalgams of the curse...perfect in every dimension. I mean, they make her grin in heaven.

I love you mom. And you're right, I deserve it.



"Love You Forever"...ye gods, what a creepy book.

While at your son's don't forget to drain the water heater of every vestige of warm water; leave a bag of damp sweat sox under the bed; empty the milk carton replacing it in the 'frige...

Oh, be sure to "borrow" a few favorite sweaters/blouses from your daughter, also.

You are one very twisted individual...I love it.

I did ya'll one better. I put the curse on them that they would have children WORSE than they were. BWA HAA HAA. It worked.

My middle daughter (who, by the way, was responsible for more than half of my gray hair) called me the other day. Hearing blood-curdling screaming in the background, I naturally asked what was the matter. She stated that her son, Devon, 2 1/2, was throwing a temper tantrum. I just savored the sound, knowing that this was only the beginning for her.

It's sweet. I'm especially anticipating 12 years from now.

Imperial Keeper

I laughed myself to tears reading this entry...and the comments.

To Kelley

I'll have you know that I fully intend to, when I get home tonight, pick my three year old son up and hug him extra tight...

I had, until reading your description, thought that he was a wild one. I now humbly bow to the master, and meekly rescind any thoughts I have of my son being too wild...

Although, he has tried to kill his baby sister on numerous occasions, either by smothering her or intentionally feeding her small toys to choke on... This is also the child that cannot be spanked, because he just laughs. Which is something I did and remember doing to my mother...

Hey Lisa, BITE ME!!