Since we've enjoyed a bit 'o Sethanese. And so it was that tonight, the Spare to the Throne came upstairs and handed me a piece of paper and a pen. It's the beginning of the semester, which means Mom signs syllabi that promise his teachers that I have read it (at this point, I don't) and that Seth will do everything the instructor requests (he does). I signed it. Handed it back to him. Told him to go. to. bed.
He walked away. I said "hey, here's your pen." He looked at me blankly and said "it's not my pen." I said "You gave it to me." His reply?
"That means it's YOUR pen." He wandered out, shaking his head at my lack of comprehension.
See, this is where Sethanese both makes perfect sense, and drives the mother to the brink of madness.
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