When Ass Burger Boy was in grade five, he had grandiose career dreams. He didn’t want to let that pesky schooling interfere with them, either. No, sir! He started out part time. Because I insisted he still had to go to school and all. He really did not care for his teacher that year. I met her. The kid was no fool.
Inspired by television shows and his favourite movie, Ghostbusters, he decided that he would be a private investigator.
A friend printed up his cards for him. Oh, yes, he had business cards. Like this:
Detective Ass Burger Boy
Private investigator
No job too big or small
And that right there is enough to render any mother into a puddle of melty heart-flutter goo.
ABB is, and always was, resourceful. He distributed his business cards around the neighbourhood, and to business establishments. He’s quite the salesman. Loves to talk. And when he has a mission? Look out.
A few days later, he came home exploding with glee. He had a case! And he announced it to me with shining eyes, eyes telegraphing all the hope he had for his dream career finally coming to fruition. And all this after a mere three days of preparation since the decision! His life was mapped out for him!
His task was to locate a missing dog. I tried to get him to secure a deposit because I happened to know of the neighbour who hired him. Not a pay your bills kind of guy, if you get my drift.
ABB found the dog, and didn’t get paid. The neighbour stiffed him.
And sadly, that marked the demise of his career as a private investigator. He just didn’t want to have to handle the business details.
But for a while there, I could say I was the mom of a crackerjack private investigator.
