My RSS Feeds
Training Center?
I think I may have stumbled into a secret CIA training center for junior operatives.
Sure it's just a house like so many others on the outskirts of Cleveland on a little cul-de-sac. It also happens to be my brother's family that resides there. But don't be fooled by appearances. I believe my precious little 6 year old niece may be a master at observation and subtle torture techniques.
It all started on day three of wallpaper stripping and painting at brother's house. I was repairing walls in the kitchen/dinette area when my niece asked Grandpa to set up a DVD. Grandpa loaded the DVD and handed my niece the remote control, then he quickly exited the house to do some gardening. Grandma was conveniently at the opposite end of the house Googling with the volume turned up. I continued filling imperfections in the walls unaware of what was about to transpire.
My niece, code named Abby, wielded her weapon, a copy of High School Musical. It was a cleverly modified video of perky teenagers dancing and singing. It was actually entertaining. . . . . . .the first time through. At some point, I realized that one really looooooooooooooooong song was my niece pressing the PREV button (as in previous) on the remote control. She was so adept at the button pressing that the song sounded like one continuous loop without any break. Just in case you are not familiar with this new form of torture I have provided ONE snippet so you can familiarize yourselves with this weapon and protect yourselves accordingly:
At the two hour mark, I could have sworn the teens were looking longingly at each other and singing, "I want you to grope me."
At the three hour mark I was hearing, "Trust your government. Trust your government. Trust your government."
At four hours I was cursing the teens in the video to be struck dumb so they would never be able to utter the words "I-want-you-to-know" in any combination and in any conversational or singing tone for the rest of their lives.
When I started contemplating how I was going to fit my head into the gallon can of paint to drown myself, I remembered that I had the option of removing my hearing aids thus rendering this weapon useless. I saw my niece squint her eyes as she watched me removed my hearing aids and put them into my purse. Then the neighbor girl, code named Alice, came over to "play." I think I confused junior agent Abby and she had to call in reinforcements. I watched them confer. Then junior agent Alice made a phone call for further instructions. She claims it was to tell her mother she would be "playing" with my niece. I used this opportunity to clean up and leave.
Day four. Junior agent Abby starts the torture video at 10am. I immediately turn off my hearing aids but not before I hear Grandpa and Grandma saying "ting, Ting, TING!!!" I later find out this is Chinese for "STOP." They make themselves scarce. Apparently the language barrier is not an effective defense against this form of torture. I can't hear the offending songs but to keep my eyes from being drawn to the images I make sure to keep knee walls and cabinets blocking my line of vision.
Day five. Junior agent Abby loses interest in torturing her Aunt after an hour of trying to use the weapon on me. Unfortunately, the previous sessions have insured a four day migraine headache. The damage has been done, but, I finish the job and it looks fantastic!
Before:
After:
Kids are really adept at torture. I wish they'd just hit us and get it
over with!
Your experience iis very familiar to me due to my grandson. The sounds
they can make over and over again is just like a Chinese water torture. I
usually am open to torture for about an hour, then I have to send him into
another room to play.
I didn't fall for it. When my kids were eight and ten respectively they had
a toy called "clackers" that drove me nuts
and reduced me to throwing there toy in someone elses garbage can in the
dead of night. But no the damn things were like a cat you can't lose and
were back in the household
within hours.
jwl
You think you survive your children then along comes the grand kids!
Youngest grand-daughter, 5 in September, annoyed her 6+6mths year sister
with two 'Clackers' bought from the Sunday markets (handcrafted for the
purpose of torture) but last I saw the 'Clackers' were still in their toy
box. Their mum works afternoons or nights now, sorting mail at the Post
Office nearby. I have just spent a fortnight in the city filling the gap
between mum & dad's shifts. Relief to come home to peace and quiet. Paint
job looks great.
The kitchen looks beautiful! Wow, great job :) I have experienced the
torture you describe. When my son was little, his favorite book was The
Little Engine That Could and I usually had to read it to him twice before
he was satisfied. This went on for a month, before the book "accidentally"
got lost, and we had to find a new one to read.