Every day Grand Master H and Famous Baby C begged me to give them flashlights.
"Can we play Flashlight?"
"Can we play Flashlight?"
"Can we play Flashlight?"
"Can we play Flashlight?"
"Plllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaasseee?"
So, rather than listen to this pleading, and whining, I give them each a flashlight. Baby C gets a Buzz Lightyear model. Grand Master H gets the flashlight I slept with after the Northridge Earthquake (seriously, I was freaked, people!).
They turn them on and all hell breaks loose.
Archie thinks that he can catch the light. But of course, he can't. So he runs around frantically, barking and yipping.
Everyone nearly jumps out of their collective skin when he starts. It is exactly like having an ice pick jammed in your ear.
I usually let this total chaos of screaming, barking, sometimes crying, and occasional violence go on until I can't take any more or someone gets hurt.
After that, the flashlights go back in my pretty little pitcher on the kitchen counter and order (okay, sort of) and peace (not really) is restored.
Tonight when I let them do this, Grand Master H yelled at one point, "Archie, you are a total douche bag!"
I don't know for sure where he learned that term. I have a feeling it was YouTube, but I can't be sure.
Anyway, when I admonished him, he came up with this one.
"Archie, you are a total sand bag!"
You know, next time someone cuts me off in traffic, I am going to yell that one!