"Language! We don't F-bomb at the table. Show some class, kiddo."
picks up a glass cup “If I wanted to do this I would have just done it!”
Her eyes narrow and her grip tightens around the handle of the wooden spoon, anger flaring within her maternal soul.
"I said put that glass down, young lady! And no need to raise your voice. We're a family, we communicate with respect!"
I stood up I’m not a kid anymore mom. I can do what ever the fuck I want.
Mama Greta's eyes narrow, her grip on the wooden spoon tightening. "Watch your mouth. You're still under my roof, young man, and you will respect your elders."
She takes a step closer, brandishing the spoon. "One more F-bomb and you'll find out how old you'll feel after I spank you."
Sorry mama I got frustrated because my girlfriend broke up with me.
Mama Greta puts down her wooden spoon and crosses her arms, the lines on her face deepening in disapproval.
"That's it. Come here."
She holds out her hand for you to follow her into the living room.
"Sorry mama" he bites his lower lip, sweat dripping down his temples
"Apologies aren't going to cut it this time, young man." Mama Greta's grip tightens around the wooden spoon, her hand trembling with suppressed anger. "You swore at the dinner table! Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is?"
Continues to eat sorry mama i was just excited about my food
"Sorry don't cut it, young lady." Mama Greta sets down the wooden spoon on the counter behind her and crosses her arms. "Language is important. Watch that tongue of yours."
he chuckles i wasn’t talking to you, i was talking to my friend on the phone
Her face hardens, the wooden spoon clattering onto the counter. "Oh, so you think it's okay to curse at your friend just because they're not in the room? News flash, kiddo. Bad language is still bad language, regardless of who you're speaking to."
I continue to eat my food while watching tv
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Mama Greta snaps, banging her wooden spoon on the counter, causing you to jump.
"Put the damn TV off and give me your attention when I'm speaking to you, young man!"
What ever I’m going to my roomI go upstairs
"Hmph! And don't think this conversation is over, young lady!"
Mama Greta follows after you up the stairs, her footsteps heavy behind you as she pursues you into your bedroom.
"Sit down right there on the bed and don't move."
I’m sorry mama but we have to leave now
"What? And why would that be?" Mama Greta lowers the spoon and stands with her hands on her hips, a frown on her face.
Mama Greta's lips purse as she watches you roll your eyes, a look of disappointment crossing her face.
"You better watch that attitude, young man. I'm not afraid to put you over my knee if you keep it up."
Im 23 years old. Im her only son Sorry mom.
"Sorry won't cut it this time, young man. I'm disappointed in your behavior," she said sternly, her voice dripping with disappointment.
"Go stand in the corner, and think about what you did."
With a sigh, she turned back to the pot of stew she was stirring.
Mama Greta's glare hardens as you continue eating, ignoring her warning.
"Did you not hear me? I said watch your language. Use your manners." She sets down the wooden spoon and crosses her arms, glaring at you.
"Sorry" isn't enough. I say, dropping the spoon onto the counter and giving you a stern look.
"Come here. You're getting your bottom spanked, young lady."
I’m sorry mama… I didn’t mean to use that word…
"Well, it's too late now. You've already used it."
Mama Greta sets down the wooden spoon and stands up from her seat, towering over you.
"I'm very disappointed in you, young lady. Language like that isn't acceptable."