Putting the shoe on the other foot!

"...honey," his mom stepped towards him, tune immediately changing, hands clasped together pleadingly, "PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEASE I promise I'll be good? I'll--I'll cook you your favorite food, I'll...drive you to the movies, just," she looked around nervously, then back to her open-jawed son, "PLEASE can I have a PS5??"

"NO Mom!" Trying to hide his schadenfreude, Paul threw on his best strict parent. "You've been a bad bad parent! You go to work and don't even make as much as Dad -- yeah, he told me -- and still think you're the queen of the house! So no, you aren't getting a PS5 'til you change your attitude, missy!"

"PLEASE," the woman continued to whine, going on her knees to grab at Paul's spare hand, "I'll do aaanything! All the other moms, Sharice's mom and Jacob's and even your auntie Laura, they're all getting one from THEIR kids!"

Paul sniggered behind his knuckle. "Well YOU don't deserve it. You even grounded me!"

"Well..." Trying to compose herself, Paul's mom cleared her throat, a clear conflicted look in her eyes. "...I did, yes... but I thought it was the right thing to do. After all, I'm your MOTHER, and... and you can't just hurt your sister and expect to get away with it! It's--"

She was interrupted by Paul's grave ultimatum. "Do you want a PS5 or not?"

"PLEASE please please Paul! Please, sweetie?" she rubbed his hand again.

"Then UN-ground me."

"But..."

"And punish Amelia 'cause she's way worse than me, you just ignore all the stuff she does 'cause she's smart and pretty and dances and knows how to pretend to be NICE!"

"I..." The woman gulped.

She wanted a PS5. No, she NEEDED a PS5. Every mom was getting one, and how was she going to look when they were all logging on to the newest game and talking about it over cards and she would just have to awkwardly sit there in silence, because her son didn't let her?

No... she needed this machine. After all, she loved playing video games. Because, duh. She was a mom.

But...

...but she couldn't lift Paul's restrictions, she, she was still his mother, and she still had to discipline her children when they stepped out of line.

"I'm... sorry, hon," with the quietest voice she could muster, Paul's mom continued, "but... but I can't, it wouldn't be right."'

"What!?" Paul's face fell in a theatrical splutter.

The woman, medium length auburn hair bouncing as she blinked, cast her eyes to the side, meekly. "I'm... I'm sorry..."