The nice thing about being a rogue sheriff (“Uncle”, for the layman) is that you get to make your own rules when dealing with psychotic 7 year olds.
I was just placed in charge of keeping Junkyard Jesus’s 7 year old son from running into traffic while Desi Diesel fixed his tv, and of course, the lad kept trying to ride his bike on the street without his pop around, while laughing at me. Error.
I said “I see you like pushing boundaries. That’s cute. Let me teach you about mine…”
“HUH?!”
“Oh, good. I have your attention. Now, if your father is out here and you run in front of a car and die, he and your mom will be sad. There’ll be a funeral… maybe even tears.
It is different if you get hit while he is inside, you see. That would make it be on me, and since I would be to blame anyway, I’ll hate to do it, but I’ll save the time and just kill you. It’ll be quick, of course. Then I’ll tell your dad, we will high five each other, we’ll drink a beer and then he will go back inside and make another one just like you. So, what have we learned?”
“Obey you or my dad will be happy?”
“Good boy.”
