By now, most every one is aware of my cousin’s spawn, Benjamin, aka “Little Sh*t.” My dad was the one that gave him that moniker...primarily because he referred to Benjamin’s dad as “Big Sh*t.”
If we’re going to be consistent, then his mother needs a nickname. I henceforth will refer to her as “Don’t Know Sh*t.” Trust me, she doesn’t.
I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I’m actually kind of amazed with Little Sh*t. Up to now, I’ve only read stories about people that somehow manage to skate through life without a care in the world. Now I know one….and he’s actually related to me. Not that it is something to be proud of.
I’ll be 49 years old in April and my life is a constant source of worry. I never think of the glass being half full. With me, it doesn’t matter how full the glass is, because all I'm thinking about is if it tips over then it’s going to be a mess that I’d better be ready to clean up.
I worry about what will happen if I lose my job…do I have enough money squirreled away to cover my bills and for how long? How much longer do I have to pay on my mortgage and my car before I don’t have to worry either of them? Do I have enough squirreled away to go ahead and just pay them off? Would that be a good idea and would I have anything left over?
How much did my 401Ks lose this month, and is there any hope at all of recovering any of it? Should I just go ahead and move everything into a cash reserve account until things stabilize? What if Congress decides to levy a tax on all 401Ks so they can take the proceeds and create retirement accounts for everyone that hasn’t saved for retirement?
Why is the dog acting strange? Do I need to take her (or him) to the vet? What if it gets worse in the middle of the night?
That’s a small synopsis of some of the things that I worry about.
Little Sh*t, on the other hand, has no worries.
He gets up in the morning and takes a long, hot shower while his MeeMaw fixes him breakfast and gets going on his lunch so it will be ready at noon when he comes home.
He then puts on his clothes that his MeeMaw bought, washed, and ironed for him. He goes to work. Why, I'm not sure because MeeMaw always seems to be able to find money to get him whatever he wants.
He doesn’t have to worry about gas because if he’s got an empty tank and no money, MeeMaw will give him gas money. God forbid he should spend his own money for such a frivolous item as gas.
He might want to take his girlfriend out on a date and he needs to save his money for that. He might need that money to go on a cruise with all of the other ne’er do wells that he runs around with.
Or, more importantly, he might need to use that money to buy some luxury items for himself, like a boat or two that won't run, a car that won't run, a 4-wheeler that he can drive the crap out of, or not one but TWO jet-skis.
And, if there is something more important than any of that stuff, he knows he can always go to the FNBOM (First National Bank of MeeMaw) to get money. And even if he doesn't ask for it, if she offers it, he takes it with absolutely no qualms. The thought of payback does not even cross his mind. And even if it did, well there's other things that have to come first.....like Little Sh*t.
Now, if it were me, I would feel somewhat guilty. Even if I was not able to payback monetarily, I would try to do things in other ways. Like helping out with the household chores.
But not Little Sh*t. He's got more important things to do. Besides, he just LIVES in his MeeMaw's house. If MeeMaw needs stuff done and she isn't able to do it, then she can just get that lazy a$$ Uncle Freddie to do it. After all, MeeMaw is Uncle Freddie's mother...not Little Sh*t's.
Yup, every single day in the life of Little Sh*t is a zippity-doo-dah day!
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