School is a mere week away and that can only mean one thing -- a dual lid-flippage spaz-travaganza for the spawnage. Both of those little ragamuffs are just freakin' the fuck out, and they're vacillating between tears and insane cackling and screaming and some behavior that's, frankly, just plain assholish in nature. It's just too much to get into right now, especially in my still frail post-yak state.
Here's a scene from the tub tonight. Mr. Z was having a soak, and was floating there a-whimperin' because we've banned him from his Gamecube for a week for losing his shit at us a few too many times over the weekend.
MR. Z: [tearfully] I wish I could just set up a tent in the backyard and bring my sleeping bag and my Pooh Bear and all my most-valuable possessions out there and just stay out there, by myself, until school starts.
ME: Wow, why do you wanna do that?
MR. Z: I just need some time alone.
ME: You know, you really just need to relax and take--
[MR. Z interrupts by screaming at the top of his lungs and splashing water toward the back of the tub]
ME: WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?!
MR. Z: I DON'T KNOW!!! THERE'S SOMETHING DISGUSTING IN THE WATER!!!!
ME: What? I don't see anything in the--
[I suddenly notice a GIANT silverfish floating in the water and paddling with its 9000 legs]
ME: AAHHHH!!! I SEE IT!!! BLEH!!! I NEED SOMETHING TO SCOOP IT OUT WITH!!!
MR. Z: AHHH!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!
[Unable to find any scoop-like implement, I thrust my hand into the murky deep, grabbed the wriggling beast, that was pretty much a cross between a Michael Dukakis eyebrow and the Iron Giant, and flung it into the toilet. I slammed the lid down (so it wouldn't fling itself back out) and flushed it back to Hell, from whence it came.]
ME: All right... I got it... it's gone. It was just a silverfish. A horrible, evil, five pound silverfish. Now, uh... just relax and enjoy your bath.
He did neither but, really, can you blame him?