June 29, 2003

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  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.

  
  

   

  
  

   

  
  

  
   

  • 11:49 am
  • 7 Comments