Get Your Own Lesbian

Miguel is playing catch with a large plastic spider which involves throwing said spider 4 feet above his head and chanting "sh-boom, sh-boom, sh-boom, sh-boom, I'm the only one that you love". Zeca is putting together an alphabet puzzle. By "putting together", I mean that she is actually sliding the wooden letters across the floor like she is playing shuffle board on the lido deck of the Love Boat. Their actions are inexplicably agitating and I want to grab them both by the scruffs of their necks and put them out on the street corner. I can't do that, however, because I am holding an 8 foot Fraser fir upright while Luisa is buried beneath it tightening the bolts on the Christmas tree stand. So, I stand there with the spider flying up and down in my peripheral vision, the chanting assaulting my ears and letters whooshing by my feet. I know that I have little chance at influencing the youngest to stop her work but I think I might be able to convince the eldest to toss and chant in another room. So, I calmly tell him that the spider and his repetitive little diddy may make my head explode and ask him to please move to another room for just a few minutes. He stops chanting long enough to tell me that he won't because he wants to be with us. I beg but he says that he won't stop or leave. I tell him that I know it doesn't make sense but that I am very irritated by what he is doing. The spider continues on its path and the chanting resumes. This is a particularly cruel type of torture. I snap. I yell at him and then Luisa yells over me and then I yell at Luisa that I am dealing with it and then Miguel yells at Luisa, "Now've been punished by your own lesbian!" Well, that pretty much cured all the crabbiness.