I keep an auditory memory file somewhere in the depths of my brain that categorizes and defines the squealing, crying, yelling, shrieking calls of my offspring, kind of like those marine biologists who claim they know all the whale songs by heart. This particular squeal that assaulted the hearing sensibilities of my neighbor and me pegged somewhere around the "Biting Victim" range.
"HEYYY!!!!" I gently called in my soft mommy scream. "HHEEEYYYYYY!!!" "WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON UP THERE?!?!?!?""
"It's okay. It's just Aiden," called a kid voice.
Aiden? We don't have an Aiden. My neighbor doesn't have an Aiden. Who's Aiden?
"AIDEN? WHO'S AIDEN??!!??~~"
"From Jon and Kate Plus 8. We're watching it on tv..."
So I just want to make sure I have this straight. I'm now also having to deal with the bickering and biting and resultant squealing of Jon and Kate's brood along with my own. Okay.
And riddle me this, Gentle Readers. I have eight children. My children are living in a family of eight. We have the same messes, similar challenges, same general chaos. Why, oh why, would my children find viewing other children in the same situation soooooo fascinating? It concerns me. What kind of voyeurism is this?
Okay, that was snarky...but funny.....