Extra Strength Can of Whoop Ass

We had to have a full Tribal Council at True Blessings Estate yesterday. The "incident" was SOOOO heinous that we called in close friends and even went so far as to include the bio-parents. The torches were lit, the meeting held, options weighed and that ungrateful, disrespectful, disobedient, bumpin' unglies all up in MY DAMN HOUSE like Diamonique after a night on the pole, smart mouth, talking back & got jokes little heffa got VOTED OFF THE ISLAND!

Yep, you heard me. We sent one of our Princesses right back to her DADDY. Right back to the house she asked us to "rescue" her from. Right back to having to take the bus or walking to work, to having to get her own damn groceries, to not having wireless Internet or her own TV. BOO FUGGIN HOO!

The fall of a Princess started a few months back when we started smelling ourselves cause we turned 18 and were graduating from HS. You thought you smelt GAW and forgot that the FM and the TravelDiva don't play. NOT ONE BIT. You KNEW, you heard numerous conversations about how we felt about tats & piercings. Wasn't nothing we could really do about the tattoo you came to us with. Fine. I made the gas face but let it slide when you got the belly button pierced, but told you that if I see anything stuck in her lip, tongue, eyelid - matter of fact - anywhere on that face, that I beat dat azz.

HUMPH. Didn't hear none of those conversations, huh? You went and got your tongue pierced and then had the AUDACITY to cop an attitude when I told you to take it out or after I snatched it out your mouth, I would be cancelling the graduation festivities as I rinsed the blood off my hand.

"But the hole will close!" Did you speak to me!? Did you utter an irrelevant question at me!? I didn't give a rats patootie if her tongue rotted out of her head. Not my problem. Get it out or get dead.

A few weeks later, the FM went into her room (shyt, our room - I own everything up in the MF'er - and NO we don't believe kids have a right to privacy. You want privacy, pay for your own damn house!) looking for some gum she had that he liked a lot. Instead of finding gum, he found a used raincoat on the night stand.


Family tribal council was called. The young dumb azz was called into the FireMarshalls torture chamber office. There was begging for forgiveness. There was tears. Apologies all around. Lectures given. More like a pass in my book, but the FM wanted to handle it. FINE.

Then yesterday the FireMarshall went out to the Naval Academy to help the midshipman we sponsor move back in for summer training. He comes home and goes into his office. He doesn't think anything of the the Prince and middle Princess being home in their rooms. So, he's working in his office and he starts to hear a thumping above his head. At first, he thinks it is our new kitten that is jumping around, but it continues and is rhythmic. He goes upstairs and tries to open the Princesses door. Locked. Hmmmm....and then it gets interesting. The FireMarshall says what he started hearing made him think he was listening to a Ex-rated chex movie.

You read right. The little darling was droppin it like its hot with all the associated sounds and verbiage of a professional. Now, the FM handled it with a calm that was unparalleled. Them two were damn lucky that I wasn't home. You know the nice lady gloves would have come off, I would have reached back to my kickboxing days and did a front kick to that door, kicking it in and commenced to beating the life out of those two heathens.


I would have sent the two of those "I so fuggin grown" kids to hell the same way they go here - NEKKID. BLOODY. SCREAMING!!!

The FireMarshall threw the little baztard out of our house. After a tongue thrashing, the not so humbled Jezebel went to work. There was no blood - WHY - cause I wasn't there. The FM proceeds to tell her that the little wanker is banned from our house, cars & property. We will have another tribal council when TravelDiva got home. Mkay. This crackhead gonna pop back off at the mouth that we can't keep her from seeing her boyfriend - "That's just crazy and unrealistic." and that she was going back to work and would talk to us when she got home. This heffa then when and put on Twitter that she was thinking about not going home cause she didn't want to deal with the drama.


Some CHILDREN play too much. The FireMarshall got a piece of luggage (I told him a green trash bag would work), called that child's father to figure out where she was going, because she was not staying here - in the MF'ing LAP OF LUXURY - talking like she grown and paying bills up in this fugger.


...and then we gonna cop more 'tude cause we put your azz on the Scared Straight Program.

Uh Huh. Not 3 hours after she was back with her fathers people did she post on Twitter how fugged her life was because now she was right back where she started from.

Marinate in that for the weekend little miss hotness.

I got a call from Princess Erin today with the report that the fallen is boohooing and wanting to come back "home". She "hates it there, it just awful".

Marinate in that. Think on it for the weekend.

...and then on Monday, perhaps the prodigal daughter can come "home" having thought about her life, about respect and discipline, about how to guard her words and actions, about shame. Perhaps she can formulate an apology and plan of action that has some contrition & remorse in it...a response that is bereft of excuses and smart azz responses.

We will see.

Have you ever had one of your children get all buck wild, challenge you and forget themselves? Did you pull a Scared Straight? What did you do? How did it all turn out?