I’ve seen this in the Older One. Now in the younger brother. There is a certain predictable progression.
The New Yorker is flipped though for the cartoons. Then a movie review is discovered. One day, you find your previously sacred “Mom has first dibs” rule casually violated, but you do a little happy dance in your heart. The Atlantic disappears along with Popular Science. Eventually all three reappear in the loo library.
The language gene has firmly implanted into the next generation. Another item check off the Mommy List.
(c)GoshGusMusic (ascap) 2010
He is a caged animal. Acting from instinct which overshadows a profound intellect, he holds hostage the very ones he claims to love. He lashes out without weighing his words because he has never learned to temper his verbal impulses. It has been so all his life.
So he bullies and threatens. He stomps his feet and uses his fists because he confuses contrary opinion as rejection.
There is no comprehension, no acceptance that one can agree to disagree yet breathe the same air.
Because of these things, his wife has left him, and his children avoid him.
He pays the family bills. In the past ten months, he has provided no grocery money for his family. His water-tight plan is to starve them because if they suffer enough, the employment he demands of his estranged wife will manifest out of the ether. Then he will be free. He does not imagine his captivity is self-imposed and is his commitment.
The use of force, bullying, degradation and threats repeats in an endless rhythm in the wild animal mind. There is no escape from this way of being. The cage remains. A cage of his making.
(c) GoshGusMusic (ascap) 2010