Indulging in a moment of uniterruption, which essentially means I had two laptops and my mind going the 12-year-old talking at me, and Grumpy Pants attempting to have a serious and important conversation with me, my attention was drawn to the conversation between the Biggest One and the Littlest One.
I’m not sure what grabbed me at that point, but did catch Monkey Boy suggesting to Chippie that “our TV needs to be exorcised.”
To which Chippie walked right up to the TV, put his face in it’s and yelled “DO SOME PUSHUPS!”
The TV promptly ignored him and carried on doing whatever it was doing. Which, really, is pretty much how everyone and everything else works in this place.
I had a moment to ponder, though, why it would be, or what was going on that required the television to require an exorcism?
Possibly, it had been turned to a show that Chippie wanted to watch, something like the Octonauts or some other thing that had caused me to tune out entirely.
There was something else that had me a little more confuddled, however.
How is it that I have a small child, one whom in moments of pre-tantrum he has Grumpy and I look over his head and wonder why we didn’t simply just call him Damien in the first place, doesn’t know what “exorcism” means?
I’m am, quite simply, at a loss …