“Statute of limitations,” my foot

As I’m a strong believer in “let sleeping babies lie,” I called B1 on his way home from work and said, “Can you please get B3 up at the school and bring him home?”  He whiffled and waffled and complained a bit, but he went.

Poor B3.  On returning home, I heard sounds of a chase down below.  Then he appeared upstairs, red in the face and slightly out of breath.  He had, he reported, received a pounding as soon as he climbed into New Blue for “inconveniencing” his older brother.

“Now look here, bud,” I said in my patented Voice of Doom.  “Given all the times Iwas ‘inconvenienced’ and put out because youneeded rides to and from school, I think I’m fully entitled to administer a pounding of my own.”

And just like that, He Who Pounds His Siblings shot back, “Oh, no.  The statute of limitations has run out.”

Statute of limitations, my foot.  I’ll show him a limitation on his statute.  I can do it, too.

After all, I “know” people…