Skinny Bitch and her husband have had a few rough times together. Mostly having to do with his gullible parenting. He adores his daughter so much that he would believe anything at all she tells him. Skinny Bitch was once a teenager, and she just plain knows better.

When Heartstopper was fourteen years old, this was a big problem. Huge. Dirtbag boyfriend. Skinny Bitch wants to keep her away from him since he’s a drug dealer and all. Mr SB is all whatever Heartstopper says must be true. It made her so crazy she had to leave until the dirtbag went back to jail and Heartstopper went back to normal. Mr. SB didn’t change a bit. She has plans for revenge about this.

Heartstopper is now eighteen years old. Skinny Bitch figures you can’t tell them what to do at that age, you pretty much have to trust that your guidance and values have taken.

Mr. SB asks Heartstopper about her new boyfriend, who has his own apartment. Heartstopper practically lives at the guy’s place.

Mr. SB: Heartstopper, when you sleep over at the boyfriend’s, where exactly do you actually sleep?

HS: Da-ad! (gives an accusing glare)

HS: I’m only eighteen! (eyes fill with tears, lip starts to quiver) I sleep on the couch. I’m not ready for sex yet. Gawd!

Mr SB: (in a very very small voice) I’m sorry.

Skinny Bitch used all of her restraint to keep from jumping up and clapping, her daughter’s performance was so convincing.

I suggested to her that she find a set of numbers like the judges use at the Olympics, so she can stand behind Mr. SB and rate Heartstopper’s performances.