Having a son is bitter-sweet. On one hand, it’s nice knowing someone will carry on your name. On the other, I know that little prick is getting stronger every day while I’m in decline. It’s only a matter of time before he challenges the old lion and tries to claim the top spot.

My wife says I’m being silly, but am I? As she was breastfeeding that little bastard the other day, I saw him grinning at me. He was smiling because he had taken what was formerly mine, and it filled him with a sense of power. He knew that would only be the first in a long series of conquests.

He also marks his territory. Honestly, this kid pisses on everything. Last week when I was changing him, he even pissed in his own face. At first I laughed at him for being a moron, but then I realized it was actually a brilliant psychological ploy. Much like a guy who punches himself in the face to let you know he’s not afraid of pain, this little guy was letting me know that there are no rules in this fight. I may beat him, but I will never defeat him because he’ll never quit.

I know I should strike now while he’s weak, but society has silly rules against infanticide. For now, we’ll have to play the waiting game. When he makes his move, I need to be ready.