The other day, I was at my computer, enjoying the sounds of our two
little parakeets softly crooning to each other, and watching the
occasional cardinals that come to our door.  My little paradise was
shattered with an explosive outburst from the next room that left me
feeling like piercing shards were shooting through my head.  The joy
of teenagers.  Teenage boys at that.  This time the outburst sounded
particularly serious and I could tell they wouldn't quite be able to
work this one out by themselves.  I angrily shot up from my computer
chair leaving it behind spinning wildly.  Because of how loud and bad
this was when I was home trying to write, I was ... pissed.  I wanted
to slap somebody and if could slap more than just one somebody I'd be
too happy.
 
They didn't even seem to acknowledge my stomping into the room and
raising my voice.  "What the hell!" I shouted.
 
They just kept gritting their teeth, struggling with something in their
hands, pushing each other, and even started chasing each other with fists
raised .... it was like a twister ripping through my house.  These are
the same boys that constantly work for money just to give gifts to each
other, and who hugged and kissed each other good night the night before.
 
"HEY! I said HEY ... stop, stop, stop, right there ....."
 
Not taking their eyes off of each other they froze in their places.  One
began to move his lips and being the quick draw that I am, I zapped him
with the ultimate weapon, "Aght!" Their little heathen chests were still
heaving while I tried to figure out what had happened.
 
Eggs.  Little crocheted eggs were all around their feet and some were in
their hands.
 
Sean couldn't keep quite for another minute when he snarled at Chet,
"Those are ROCKY'S.  You KNOW they are his favorites and he only plays
those eggs." Chet snapped back with, "Nut uh!  Nut uh!" (he's the
brilliant neurotypical child, so I'm used to such dazzling comebacks)
 
"Yes they are you ..."
 
Drawing my other gun, "HEEEEEEEY, ut uh, no sir, you stop that mouth
right now."
 
"Mom tell him!  Tell him these three are Laddies'.  Look, they're like
new.  I keep them that way for him.  They only stay in my room.  I've
always had these three.  They were presents from special people
(fml'ers).  Will you tell him?!"
 
"They're Rocky's" retorted Sean.
 
"Nut uh, nut uh!  (Good thing Sean has Chet as a role model, he's
brilliant ... )
 
God help me, I had no clue as to what egg's were which.  And I had no
idea that said egg's were "owned" by any ferret.  I couldn't even wrap
my mind around this, much less than solve it.  I'll tell you what (as
southerners love to say), I was really stumped on this one.
 
I mean how did it all come to this anyway?  How did this close
relationship between brothers deteriorate like this?  Cain and Able ...
almost being played out again in my very own home over ferret crocheted
eggs.  If I only knew the evil powers of these evil eggs, I would never
have allowed them in my home.  How was I to know.  But I should have
known, shouldn't I.  I'm a disgraceful mother.  I can see that now.
 
Wolfy
 
<http://wolfysluv.jacksnet.com>
[Posted in FML issue 5092]