An 11-year old with a phone with unlimited text capabilities is a mind-numbing, if not amusing, thing.
Today I got the standard barrage of texts, since he's on break. Can I go to E's house? Can I sleep over? Etc., etc.
At one point, the text exchange disintegrated as follows . . .
Son #1: LOL
Mom #1: ROFL PMP (peeing my pants . . . we made that up together)
Son #1: Stop PYP and do UR work
I'm being chastised in text.
In all fairness, . . . he started it.