Curt walks into the kitchen in the wake of a conversation I'd had with the 15-year-old, and I am literally beating my head off of the cabinet. It started when Michael had asked why he was grounded and in turn I listed in great detail why he wasn't going to be getting his iPod or DS back anytime soon. And I really should have just saved my breath, because all this garnered me was a blank stare and an "Okay. But why I am grounded?"
I collapse into Curt. "They're all so exhausting, they just drain you."
"I know, and what worries me is that one day they'll be a drain on the economy. And they're not living here forever.", he says.
"That actually doesn't worry me so much, they all know how to do dishes." I offer feebly.
Just then Brett saunters into the room, wearing full body fleece pajamas, complete with dinosaur print and footies. Only he's got them unzipped and hanging down by his waist, chest naked and pale, bouncing to whatever noise is playing in his head.
"And that one?" Curt looks skeptical.
"Christ, he'll be fine. If anyone of them is going to make millions, it's that one.", I say.
Curt rolls his eyes. "Only if he can find a job making excuses."
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