At 6:30, this here Quirk is usually asleep.
Or should be.
Quite frankly, I think it's for your own damn good that I do, or am because  I am a menace to society otherwise,
as I'm sure y'all know by now. [I can not emphasize that enough.] 

Therefore, I'm sure you can appreciate the boldness, the sheer bravery of my sister's boys.
At 7 years old, B  is a fearless and sly leader,  cleverly disguized  as the essence of innocence. 
He has shiny blond hair, stunning blue eyes and a mouth most women would kill for. 
At 4, his brother O is a one-man-cult.
It's called :"Worshipers of My Big Brother." 
I don't know why, but for some reason, the cult doesn't seem to pick up as expected, although O earnestly tries to convert everyone he meets. 
Still, he performs carefully crafted rituals, obeys commands blindly and thinks the world is just a wonderful place, just as long as his Guru's around.

This morning, at 6:30 a.m, your grouchy Quirk awoke to the sound of a football, bouncing up and down and all around in her befroom. "This can not be true," said the quirk's inner voice, trying to maintain a calm disposition.
"Bang," went the ball. 
Luckily, I don't remember what happened next.
The bump in my head shall heal soon, in a year or two, I'm sure. 

A little while later I awoke to a suspicious stereophonic crunching sound.
One quirky eye opened up to inspect the hostile environment and was immediately joined by other eye, in a horrified effort to assess survival options.

Two very tanned blonde elves, with huge blue eyes, sat on my bed, watching me with great interest.

Did I ever tell you how sensitive I am to that kind of inspection at such  ungodly hours in the morning?
If I havne't, I'll be happy to supply a list of  previously fearless men, fooled by love, who will .

When two boys under the age of 10  watch you closely in the morning, their interest is suspicious.
My first instict was to check whether one - or both- of my personal boobs had managed to free itself from the wee top I wore at night. Nope.
Both were confided to their safe limits, stifled and restricted to their ghetto. 
I then tried to check whether I had drooled during the night. (Joy's boy is a porn star).
Nope. 
No evidence, anyway. Without evidence, there is no crime. Right?

Still, my selfesteem was rapidly deteriorating.

Crunch, crunch. 

Dude, these boys are weird .
They were sitting there, eating pickles (!!!), watching me with increasing interest, still.

Grrrrumprrrr..ghrekriir me fjrggggrrrcrumprut ?!
(Translation: "Why are you watching me as if I was a bloody t.v?!!" )

I said, pathetically trying to sound angry, authoritative and poised, whilst clumsily dragging my sorry ass to a dignified upright position.
The boys both smirked, then crunch-crunch-crunch, hastily terminated their pickles .

My sister just laughed, then turned to change the baby's diaper.
She never takes my theories seriously, you know? That hurts ! 
All I suggested was that her two boys were abducted by aliens, and replaced by little green men.
What's  illogical about that? 

Seriously though, I have been walking around feeling overly self conscious all day.
What did  these two pickle eaters find that was so interesting, I can not imagine, but believe me, it was surreal. 
Personally, I think they were trying to transform/transport/ translate me, using special  telekinesis powers that I know some aliens possess. 
Really.

The other, more realistic options are much too frightening to inspect. 
Although my sister disagrees, I have to follow my intuition in this case. 
Maybe I should have discussed it with her when she wasn't busy changing the diaper.
Lately, those smelly diapers seem to be the focus of her existence, you know?
I think it's weird.
I think they're all weird, except for the baby.
The baby is not weird, she's just hilarious, and also, the only one in that household who  appreciates a good sense of humor when confronted with one.

You know?

Personally, I think my sister is a little green men, too, but just don't tell her I said that.
She seems to have lost her sense of humor and I can prove it, too, just not right now.
Right now I'm going to sit here for a minute and discuss a frightening conspiracy theory that had just crossed my mind.
Although, for the record ? I do not snore. It's you.