My children still adhere to The Witching Hour and all its unwritten obligations.
I. Thou Shalt Freak The Hell Out For No Good Reason
II. No Good Reason at All
III. Your Parents Must Not See It Coming
IV: Bitch, Moan, Scream, Throw Shit, Play The Nearest Instrument, Punch Your Brother in the Chest
V. Bang Your Skull on the Refrigerator = 10 Bonus Points
Gus is the master.
--Mommy, can I have an appetizer while Daddy’s cooking dinner?
--(Aww how cute. He said appetizer.) Sure, what would you like?
--A piece of cheese, please.
--Here you go.
--(Starts to turn blue) You unwrapped it.
--Yes …
--I HAVE TO KILL MYSELF NOW.
Adding to the misery, Larry has this theory that families should eat together and talk about their days. I have this theory that I’ll be in the bedroom; call me when it’s over.
There’s no talking about our days. There is Gus talking about his day. And there is Gus talking about his butt and its myriad capabilities.
--(Taking a bite of his chicken patty) You know it’s strange. When I wipe my butt, not a lot of poopy comes off. But when you wipe Patrick’s butt, there’s a lot of poopy. Isn't that so weird?
So weird.
--Hey Gus, are you going to eat your bun?
--MOMMY SAID EAT MY BUNS! HA! POOP.