Ha Ha Ha Monster

Anyone who reads this probably knows that I play music under the name mbilly: it’s a calculated plan to feed off the popularity of Bonnie Prince Billy and M. Ward; previously I had toyed with the name Iphone Obama). I don’t make a whole lot of money playing out–if any–nor do I have a whole lot of money sitting around to spend on either recording or actually putting out a record, so I decided it was time to have some schwag to sell. My good buddy Adam started a business and so I asked him if he could make me some shirts. I wanted to use one of Eban’s drawings for the shirt, one that I’ve had up on the site before I think. I told Eban that I’d be using it, but obviously he didn’t really understand what that meant.

(This image is in brown ink on a pink American Apparel shirt).
When Eban saw the finished shirts he was excited the fact that his drawing was on the shirt. He said something about where to sell them and how much we would sell them for. Buddy, I said, you’re not going to get the money from the shirts. He smiled like he thought I was kidding and said, but I drew the picture. Yeah, but did you buy the shirts or pay to have them printed? Now i feel like a capilist asshole rippipng off the artist. Then Lisa came down and he said, Mom you can have one for free. I told him we couldn’t give them away, half-jokingly since I had planned on giving one to Lisa. It’s just Mom he said. We will sell them to all our friends and people who want one, he said, for $5. I shook my head. $10 he asked? I shook my head. How much do you want to sell them for, he asked. I could tell that he was thinking this was going to make a lot of money.
After Eban told Blue and Lisa they could both have a shirt, he later said, Dad you can take one. One what, I said. You can have a shirt, he said very earnestly. I told the boys that the shirts are mine and I am going to sell them and I am going to get the money. Since I used their drawings–I used one of Madee’s to make buttons–I would pay them some amount. You could pay us thirty, Eban said. I am not going to pay you thirty dollars, I said. That’s a lot! You could pay us fifteen, he said, to me and Madee. That is still a lot, I said. We went on like this for a while. Finally, I got into some discussion about how they should be happy that their drawing is on a shirt or button and that if they were going to ask for money, then next time I wouldn’t use their work. It was really weird. I’m having a weird business interaction with my sons. They owe me thousands upon thousands of dollars! Why the fuck should I pay them anything for their drawings? I told them I would buy them a toy. Madee said, Ok, how about a toy from Rerun? Rerun is a really awesome neighborhood consignment store. Toys there top out at about five dollars. Eban said, Ok, but I want a toy from Toy’s R Us. At least I know he’ll be the one with money someday and can support me. Then again, my dad assumed that about me. How sad it will be when I drive my father to cash his social security checks just to get enough money so I can buy beer.
The t-shirts re-ignited a whole thing with the boys about selling their drawings for lots of money. I mentioned the upcoming art show at the Fresh Pot–which is what spawned this whole money from art obsession in the first place nearly a year ago–so they spent half an hour drawing pictures that I presume they plan to make a bunch of money off of. I’m a little nervous. Money has already become an issue with them because they have somehow amassed over twenty bucks each in their piggy banks. Eban has nearly thirty. I’ve always thought it a good thing for them to get money and save it, but they’ve become little assholes about it. If they ruin things or waste things, I will make them pay for it. Or, if they are being completely ridiculous–like saying they looked all over for their pajamas and can’t find any in the entire house–I will offer my services for a fee. But sometimes, like when they recently wasted a bunch of my expensive hair product–yes, yes, I look like a total asshole now, I know (i can write a whole entry on why this stuff!)–after I told them they would have to pay for it, Eban said, “that’s ok. I’ve got $30.” He made me so fucking mad.