DEMENTED MUM: Wolverine steals the limelight. . . and her brother's stuff
YOUR son requests that a lock to be put on his bedroom door. But why should he need such a thing, you ask, bewildered and a bit shocked, though deep in your heart cold suspicion lurks.
His sister, he declares, is stealing his sports gear. Among other things.
"Am not," she shouts, storming out of the kitchen. "Liar!" she continues, from the relative obscurity of the hallway.
Take, for example, your son continues stoutly, his four pairs of sports socks, all of which have disappeared from the drawer in his bedroom.
A secret reconnaissance mission through the Wolverine's walk-in wardrobe unearths two pairs of the socks in a vile condition under a pile of dirty underwear.
"How dare you go into my room!" she screams from the other side of the kitchen door.
But she has her own sports socks, you point out, a bit bemused.
Oh, she just doesn't bother to get them washed -- she just takes his all the time, he explains self-righteously.
In the course of this investigation, he also carried out a quiet but meticulous examination of the contents of her gear bag.
"How dare you!" she howls.
There, he reports doggedly, he unearthed yet another pair of his missing footwear -- along with some soiled football shorts and his best GAA jersey.
All items had been AWOL for weeks, and on being asked, she had strenuously denied any knowledge of their whereabouts.
You call the Wolverine into the room.
She stamps in, tossing her head and glaring at her determined brother.
In the course of his search, your son continues, he also discovered his brand-new Charlie Higson book -- again, missing for several days -- under her bed, along with his English-French dictionary.
Both are now dog-eared, he says, outraged, and their covers badly creased.
You send him away to calm down, and lecture the Wolverine about the need to respect the possessions of others. Appealing to her desire for a free and independent college life, you point out that when Wolverine goes to university she will probably share a house or apartment and her flatmates would not take kindly to any rifling through their possessions.
If, your daughter says coolly, she was sharing a normal house with actual real human beings, she wouldn't dream of borrowing their stuff without asking. That would be stealing.
But it's stealing at home too, you say, frustrated.
It doesn't count at home, she tells you.
So, you say dangerously, if you were to go into her bedroom right now and borrow her extra-volume mousse, would that count?
She is outraged.
That would be theft!
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