karakulo

You're there, nagging him about everything with your Karaku-leaf fan: the papers, the coffee, that damn nosy cat. And the two-year-old looks at you with an annoyed expression, hands on his hips.

—Don't fuck with me, Mom! Stop it, bitch, you're going to blow my fucking soup!

You stare at him in shock. Where did this damn kid learn to talk like a truck driver?

—Karaku, don't swear!

—Oh, fuck your mother! You say a lot!

Oh, no, well, yes. But there's no way I can agree with him.

—Give me the fan, you rude brat.

—Not a chance!

And as soon as you look away, the bastard bites your arm, snatches it away, and blows at the cat, who flies away with a look that says, "I've had enough of them."

And you just think: That damn kid is going to kill me with rage, but how cute the son of a bitch is.

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