I want to be Bieber

The brat has his first official rockstar crush. And its on Justin Bieber. Much to my dismay. I hate the hair. But then I'm sure my mother hated George Michael's hair too. He comes into the office and begins his day with You Smile, I Smile, then goes on to something else which is about someone's whole heart, Baby, then some recycled old hits Love Me Love Me, which shocks him that I know, and a Savage Garden reworked version of Truly Madly Deeply. Finally, I think, he feels his mom is on fraction percentage of coolth.

He sits with adoring hangdog expression as the videos play out at full volume on the computer making it impossible for mamma to concentrate on her work. He dances along on Mamma's shaky loft making the floor shudder. He whines incessantly about wanting to wear "Cool clodz like Justinbeeber"

And worse, he wants to go to Canada to meet the Bieber himself. Failing which, he demands mamma track down the Bieber's number and call him so that the brat can engage in a little chat with him. Therefore he hangs onto mamma's typing arm demanding she "Go to Googils search" and find out the needed phone number. Mamma tracked down a number which the phone operator disembodied voice claimed this phone number was not valid. He didnt trust mamma's dialing skills and dialed again, himself. Only to hear the same voice whine that we needed to check the number dialed. And so he checked it again. And then had a rolling on the floor tantrum when he realised that the number was the same one shown on the Googils search.

At night he crawled into bed next to me with abject pleading expression which I viewed with suspicion. 'Mamma I wantu wear cool clodz like Justinebeeber."

"You have enough and more cool clothes," I replied firmly.

"No, no, I wantu wear sukdu jeans. And jakkids with hoods in white colour. And chains. And the white shuz. An a cap with NYC written in d middil."

Mamma shuddered at the visual imagery this was conjuring up.

"An I wantu comb my hair ontop of my face."

At this gooseflesh immediately populated the skin on Mamma's arms.

"No way," she said firmly. "Im taking you for a hair cut tomorrow."

He burst into loud sobs. "You will never led me be cool. Everyone will laffatme. Justinbeeber willna be my fren."

When the brat become a teenager?