of how to prevent Andrew milking his sunburn any longer. You'll remember I posted three nights ago about his sunburn. He's now a slight pink but he's been wandering the house shirtless and whining about how it burns, somewhat in the manner of a vampire drenched in holy water.
Earlier today he emerged from the unholy sanctum known as his room, shirtless. In an instant I whipped off my own. Ewwww ewwww was his response.
He responds well to ridicule; a few weeks ago he was doing the gangsta thang, trousers pulled so low the waistband was halfway down his bum. I'm sure you've seen teenagers doing that - the crotch of their pants at about the level of their knees. So I responded in kind. A man of 50 or so wearing his pants in that style looks even more ridiculous! He hasn't done it since!
Thus today with me shirtless. To underline the point I promised that if he appeared at dinner without a shirt on I'd take my trousers off. It worked! He knows I'd do it!
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