The Beat Goes On
I love my parents. I really do, but something tells me that they are trying to repay some imagined transgression I committed against them in my childhood. There is no other explanation. You see they gave #1 Son a stereo for his birthday last month. They have now given a stereo to the Little One for Christmas. My friends, I am a victim of Dueling Stereos.
It started out with one of them putting on a CD and setting the volume to an almost tolerable level. The other one decided they would prefer another CD, thus they put theirs on and turned the volume up a click or two more. The first kid got angry and hiked their volume up a couple of notches. This move was unacceptable to the second music aficionado who then turned their volume up more. The pattern repeated itself until the speakers were straining, the ceiling above my head was vibrating and my ears were bleeding. It was then time for me to deal with the problem.
I threw open whichever door I first stumbled to with my hands covering my ears. Of course the kid had his back to me, since he was supposed to be cleaning his room.
Me: (screaming at the top of my lungs) TURN IT DOWN!
No response, so I repeated the maneuver. Still nothing. I then resorted to grabbing something off the closest pile of debris and heaved it at him. He turned around with a murderous look, thinking that his sister had disturbed him until he noticed that it was me. He smiled at me and waved innocently.
Me: (still screaming) TURN IT DOWN!
Him: WHAT? Of course I couldn't hear him, so I got that from reading his lips.
Me: (getting hoarse) TURN IT DOWN!
Him: (cupping his hand to his ear) WHAT? His lips moved and I thought he said "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
I finally gave up and took my life into my hands by climbing through the debris to the stereo. When I violently dialed the volume knob down to 0 he whined at me, "MOM, I was listening to that." Yeah kid, so were the neighbors and they're not happy about it. He then told me that he couldn't hear over his sister's music, so he HAD to turn it up. I told him I'd take care of her. The scene above was repeated in the Little One's room.
I had no sooner made it down the stairs when it started over again. I have given up, my friends. 8 more days until school is back in session. If you need me, I'll be curled up in the fetal position under the workbench in the garage.
It started out with one of them putting on a CD and setting the volume to an almost tolerable level. The other one decided they would prefer another CD, thus they put theirs on and turned the volume up a click or two more. The first kid got angry and hiked their volume up a couple of notches. This move was unacceptable to the second music aficionado who then turned their volume up more. The pattern repeated itself until the speakers were straining, the ceiling above my head was vibrating and my ears were bleeding. It was then time for me to deal with the problem.
I threw open whichever door I first stumbled to with my hands covering my ears. Of course the kid had his back to me, since he was supposed to be cleaning his room.
Me: (screaming at the top of my lungs) TURN IT DOWN!
No response, so I repeated the maneuver. Still nothing. I then resorted to grabbing something off the closest pile of debris and heaved it at him. He turned around with a murderous look, thinking that his sister had disturbed him until he noticed that it was me. He smiled at me and waved innocently.
Me: (still screaming) TURN IT DOWN!
Him: WHAT? Of course I couldn't hear him, so I got that from reading his lips.
Me: (getting hoarse) TURN IT DOWN!
Him: (cupping his hand to his ear) WHAT? His lips moved and I thought he said "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
I finally gave up and took my life into my hands by climbing through the debris to the stereo. When I violently dialed the volume knob down to 0 he whined at me, "MOM, I was listening to that." Yeah kid, so were the neighbors and they're not happy about it. He then told me that he couldn't hear over his sister's music, so he HAD to turn it up. I told him I'd take care of her. The scene above was repeated in the Little One's room.
I had no sooner made it down the stairs when it started over again. I have given up, my friends. 8 more days until school is back in session. If you need me, I'll be curled up in the fetal position under the workbench in the garage.
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