Meet the Next Dark Lord

Last week, I trudged through a torturous two-hundred item take-home exam, a five-page paper about psychological warfare that I did only the morning before it was to be submitted due to the bloody exam about Acoustic Linguistics, and another exam. There was supposed to be a presentation for our Japanese class, but that got postponed. That’s why I didn’t have much time to write or dump you with whatever junk my mind came up with at the time and practically abandoned this for a while. But I survived and here I am again, corrupting your sanity to sympathize with what’s left of mine.

As a sort of reward to myself, I spent the whole day bumming around and going through three bags of junk food, two liters of iced tea, and eight episodes of Lie to Me, a series about a group of people solving cases by interpreting body language. It’s an awesome show that shows a lot about the involuntary facial reactions humans have to certain emotions, also known as microexpressions. It would be amazing material to use with anything Tom Riddle-related. Watching with me were my sister and my adorable nephew who alternately gave and taunted me with food.

We were trying to figure things out at the same time as the characters, or at least before the events were explained fully. It’s a pretty fun activity that the family usually engages in when watching things like the Saw Series during one of our family bonding moments. Yes, our idea of family bonding is watching gory films that make us use our heads, while gnawing on junk food, ice cream, or the other siblings’ musings. Charming family, aren’t we? Bouncing back ideas with my sister is one thing. Seeing my barely two-year-old nephew doing the same is quite another.

And so I realized something.

My nephew is a Dark Lord in training.

I swear.

I mean, no, he doesn’t tell outright what he thinks — he’s a fast learner in other things, but for some reason, he can’t talk yet probably because only the maids were usually home and they were too busy watching their primetime TV shows or texting their “boyfriends” (PLURAL!) to actually talk to him — but he has this look that just tells you he knows. He’s usually correct too. And it’s bloody creepy.

It’s like that one time I strapped him to his high chair. Minutes later, I found him walking to me with a smug smirk on his face. I mean seriously that high chair has a child-proof lock! And how the heck did he get down? And he never does it to my mother when she puts him in his high chair to keep him in place when she has the babysitting shift and she has to do something. No, he only does it to me!

There’s also this other time I saw him playing with my sister’s iPod. I’m not really sure if my sister was the one who got past the keycode password thingy, but for the sake of my sanity, I’m going to keep thinking that she did. He wasn’t just randomly swiping at things. He was alternating between watching videos and playing games. I  mean it. He knows how to operate the videos to watch what he wants, how to get there, and how to get to and play the games. Heck, he even beat the high score for one of them!

Bloody creepy, I tell you.

And it doesn’t help that he looks like Tom Bloody Riddle, but with longer hair. You know, the part where the movie shows that Dumbledore came to the orphanage to tell him that he was a wizard. He’s cute, he knows it, and he bloody well knows how to use it. Why are all the psychopaths cute?

Again: Dark Lord in training.

Maybe I should really start looking for my twelve-and-a-half-inch redwood wand somewhere. You know. Just in case.


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