I’ve ruined my child. I know this isn’t a surprise to most of you out there, but I still feel the need to say the words out loud.

It’s official. I really have ruined him.

We know he’s special for an 11 year old. I mean, what other pre-teen’s favorite word is facetious? Who else is planning his high school selection based on whether or not he’ll want to cut his hair? My child…that’s who. (Did I tell y’all that story? He announced the other day that he will not be cutting his hair for 3 years until he goes to Catholic High (where they require short hair). I explained that if he grows his hair for 3 years that he might not want to go from super long to super short. He told me that’s why he had a back up plan: “See, I know I’m going to get into Catholic b/c I’m smart and I’m a legacy, so I’ve decided that if I really like my awesome hair, I’ll go to Central instead.”) Oy.

Two days ago, this very unique-minded child announced he had a new favorite song.

NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP by Rick Astley

No. I’m not kidding. He’s been Rick-rolling himself ever since by watching the video over and over and singing it at the top of his lungs. Please use the headphones, Mr. Francis. I promise, if I have to hear that song one more time, I absolutely will give you up.

I have ruined my child and now I’m having to live with the end result. Karma really is a bitch sometimes.

Or as my momma always said: You pay for your raisin’… (Which I always heard as You pay for your raisin…and I always thought “Well duh, cuz otherwise you’d be stealing. And who would steal a raisin?”