Friday, March 18, 2011

Overheard through the Monitor

"Uncle!  Dewre's a buggie!"  [whimpering]  "Uncle!"

We're down in the living room.  The kids are in bed.  They're supposed to be sleeping.  And they're supposed to have their eyes closed.

Not Medium Fry.

"What?"

"Dewre's a buggie!"

"Medium, your eyes are supposed to be closed!"

More whimpering.  "But dewre's a buggie!"

"I'll be up in a minute."

Hubby takes some time to respond to our friend Sir Robin Hood, who has been texting about vehicles and locations and how far it is to where we used to live.

And then he goes upstairs.

Where he does not find the offending buggie.

"Where is it?"

"It went behind da window!"

Hubby looks.  Sort of, I'm sure.  Enough to satisfy Medium Fry.  But the room is dark (despite the nightlight) and the blinds over the windows are dark wood.

He's not downstairs more than a couple minutes before it starts again.

"Da buggie is baaaaaack!"

More whimpering.

Silence.

Then...

"Deawr God, please get da buggie out!"  Pause.  "Please make him go away."

Hubby and I chuckled downstairs, and Hubby observed, "At least we're raising them right!"

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