Today was busy! My basic schedule had to be thrown aside, and by late afternoon I was in a moderate sized state of control-freak angst. My mental to-do list was mentally crunched up and thrown in the mental trash.
Finally, night time. I recharge at night. Hubzam goes to bed earlier than I do; he gets up earlier. Gonzo had been totally quiet all even and was engrossed in something on his electronic device of the moment.
One of my late night habits is to watch YouTube videos of BBC documentaries or funny, topical clips. I love BuzzFeed shorts, and I had seen "6 Harmless Office Pranks" the night before; Gonzo will love this, I thought as I watched. Smirking Kevin McShane, we are kindred spirits. Follow the link and watch it...it's much funnier than anything I'll write tonight (spoiler).
Working through the list, McShane is shown setting up each prank, followed by the unsuspecting office worker-victim experiencing the full frustration of it. They're harmless, which is another aspect that appeals to me. The best part is the appearance of the smirking Kevin McShane in the background of each scene.
"Gonzo, you've got to watch this," I announce.
Through the wonders of the smart TV (is that what you call it?), I start the video. The title is still in frame when Gonzo starts talking: "Mom, let me tell you what happened on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia."
I stop the clip.
Gonzo launches into a detailed explanation of a scene; the boy is wordy. Unnecessarily wordy. And I was in the room when he watched the show. Finally, he finishes his play by play.
I start the clip.
"Hey, Mom, did you ever see that show where..."
I stop the clip and I'm not even trying not to have the poker face of death. My hands hold my head in a death grip; I pull out small tufts of hair and emit a low growl because I'm in the middle of a Gonzo tale once more. There are many, many pauses and over use of the words "like" and "so anyway." I silently vow to make him copy the SAT word list.
I re-start the clip.
"Mom, what do we have to do tomorrow - is there anywhere we have to go?"
As he starts his verbal list of things he wants to do tomorrow, I'm having trouble believing that we can't get through a clip that lasts all of a minute and a half. All I can think of is the fact that all night, no one wanted to chat, talk or commiserate. There has to be a magical connection between the television and my son's voice box. It's his special telepathic ability.
And darn if he isn't still talking; just yakking it up.
"OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD...that's it. I'm bloggin' you tonight," I cry out of exasperation. Sure, I had another subject in mind...but not now.
"And I'm blacking out your teeth." (Guess you'll have to see Teeth Matter to get that one.)
We both started laughing; it quickly turned into the big, silent laugh where you start to tear up and can't speak. I struggle to keep from sounding like the cartoon dog, Mutley. I'm not very successful. When he went to bed, I kissed him goodnight and told him I'd be up soon to smother him with a pillow.
Oh, come on, I'm joking about the pillow. But I was serious about the blogging. A gal has to have somewhere to go that's quiet and private - like the Internet.