If my kid ever talks like that I'd scoop his eyes out, throw it in a jar full of Indian spices mixed with dog urine, and shove it up his ass with broken glass ornaments while slitting his throat with the best razor blade I can find at the dollar store. Then I'd strip off his filthy skin, and use it as a gift wrapper. I'd use my feet to stomp and squash his fucking bones, and sprinkle the dust and remains of the bones around his daddy's Mercedes.