Only a gamer parent of gamer children will understand the struggle of raising trash-talking hooligans with chips on their shoulders. On second thought, that’s pretty much every teenager ever.
I try to be a good example for my kids, I really do. But there are only so many red turtle shells to the back of the head that one can laugh off before one snaps. Every time I think I might actually win a round of Mario Kart, as I’m closing in on that beautiful checkered finish line, I hear the familiar beeping that indicates one of my offspring has locked onto me with a red turtle shell of doom, and it’s just a matter of seconds before they zoom past my flaming wreckage and steal what’s rightfully mine. Every. Single. Time.
I take a little solace in knowing that I’ll eventually die and leave all my worldly possessions to the family pet. Is that unnecessarily vindictive? Probably. Is it deserved? Absolutely. And when my children attend the reading of my will, I want the person doing the reading to deliver the news and then, when my kids are all sitting there perplexed, I want the reader to just hold up a picture of a red turtle shell, smirk, and walk away.
– Illustrations created using ToonDoo. New comic strips every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!