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Some brats must be taught a lesson.  So I’m filing a lawsuit against my daughter.

I heard she’s been having a ball “Par – Tea” every weekend. Oh yes! “THE HIP HOUSE” of Pembroke Pines, has been serving escargot and flan for breakfast to all her worldwide visitors, including her father’s ex/current girlfriends.


And, should I mention the “Dom Perignon, and the “Veuve Cliquot” served in her Swarovski crystalline toasting flutes?


But, while she caters to her friends, I on the other hands am a major obstacle to her convenience. Although my last brief visit to her house was over four months ago. You think she would be thrilled to see me? Of course not! After all, who am I? I’m just her mother!

How boring!”

“Oh Mah, you can’t come this weekend, I have guests.” Was her response during our phone conversation.

My answer?

“And I have diarrhea and just need a place to shit!”

“Mahh! You know what I mean- this week is just too busy for me!”

“Honey, you should have sent a notice to your grand-father, to forbid him not to die this week.”

“Yeah! I know. That’s sad. I’m really going to miss grandpa Mah. But I was planning to travel to Brazil anyway; how long you’re going to be here for?”

“Oh me? That’s ok! You can always drop me off to your nearest “Abandoned Parents Shelter.”

“Mah, you’re hilarious! I have no problem with you in the house, but I just can’t pick you up today.” (Mind you, I’m traveling from CA. to Miami.)

So I told her, “What is it – You’ve been busy in action on your bed this weekend? I hope not.  Your grandpa just died, he probably watched the whole movie.”

“Mahhh!  I have my girlfriends in the house, not.”


I purposely cut her off.

“Good, because my nurse/cook/housekeeping/babysitting job drained me, and I need some peace and quiet time to write.”


“Mah, I might not pick you up today ok. I’m still tired, so tomorrow.”

My answer: “I’m filing a lawsuit for parental neglect against you.”


I was pissed. I ‘ve been hanging at my sister’s house like a stale coconut on an abandoned coconut tree.

“ I knew I should have filed for  “Parental Abuse lawsuit since you were three years old,” I told her.

Dialed tone.

Another call from her.


“Going forward, please address my attorney. “His websites is:


Flashback: She was about five years old, and the busiest body among all my children. I was preparing a special dish which required crushed jalapeno peppers. Within a few seconds I had turned my back, the cute little brat had rushed to the kitchen, climbed the high chair; and was getting ready to eat a full spoon of crushed jalapeno peppers.  I ran so fast that I tripped.

“Dawn it!” I said. “Why did I grabbed that spoon?”


So I said. “To start with, I’m demanding compensation for:

  • Nine Months you spent freeloading in my womb.”
  • Three years of sleepless nights due to your constant illness – Diarrhea and stinky vomit.
  • Reimbursement for all my makeup you dabbled your whole hands on and used them as your art experiment.
  • For all my perfumes you drained on your clothes and washed your tiny butt with.
  • And interest on all excess expenses, such as my shampoo you gurgled down your throat and my expensive soaps you soaked in water till they were liquefied; my gold jewelry you chewed, my pearl necklace you chopped off, and my gold watch you banged with a rock.
  • Lastly million $$$ for all my unconditional love I gave you!!!”


“See you in court!”






    tejaswinimalik said:
    July 19, 2016 at 7:36 am

    WoW! haven’t laughed this hard, in a while! Thank you so much for this one!


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