Monday, January 31, 2011

He stole my insult.

The other night, P.I.C. called me a "problem child." That's fine. I think by most people standards, I most likely AM a "problem child." I do, however, have one problem with this particular name he has decided to deem my new moniker.


When he called me problem child the other night, I kindly informed him that while I was being difficult, he could NOT copy my nickname of him. His response? Disturbing, to say the least.

F.A. "You realize you really shouldn't call me that since I am pretty sure that I have called you MY problem child AT LEAST six times."
P.I.C. "What? No. I don't think so."
F.A. "Haha. You're so funny. You KNOW I have called you that."
P.I.C. "Um, no. You have never called me that."

At this point, I know my voice was getting a little shrill. He was either messing with me (the most likely situation) or he genuinely did not remember me calling him a problem child (how DARE he).

F.A. "How could you NOT remember that? I mean, it was so hilarious when I called you that all SIX TIMES."
P.I.C. (laughing)

He is a problem child. Apparently, so am I. We are perfect for each other.

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