I have a very proud sister and a very camera-happy brother-in-law, so I have no shortage of niece and nephew pictures. Eating pictures, sleeping pictures, bath pictures, formal pictures, laughing pictures. They’re all very nice, but none of them… you know… really STAND OUT.
Except this one.
When she’s old enough (say, next year) I’m going to begin Felicity’s training regimen. Hand eye. Headshots. Sniping and relocating. Melee attacks while swapping weapons. Grenade tagging. Active reloading. Then, once she has the skills she needs to hold her own online, I’ll teach her trash talking. Her little angelic mouth will sprout the foulest, most evil tempered sailor speak you can possibly imagine.
Then, she’ll put on a headset, take on Logan Davidson, and tea-bag his lifeless corpse while screaming obscenities at him over Xbox live, and I, dear friends, will shed a tear of pride.
Train your Son, Davidson. Because the angel of fragging is just around the corner and when the kids at school hear your son got teabagged by a four year old girl they are never, EVER going to let him live it down.