By Rick Kaempfer
I had to transcribe the "conversation" leading up to the most ridiculous fight of the summer. This will give you a small glimpse into what my summer has been like. The participants, as always, are Sean (age 5) and Johnny (age 10). They have just been told to get in the car because it's time for swimming lessons. They are both standing by the back door, inches away from the electronic garage door opener. I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth. I can hear their whole conversation but I can't intervene because my mouth is full of toothpaste.
Johnny: Sean, hit the button for the garage door.
Sean: No.
Johnny: Just hit it.
Sean: You're standing right next to the button.
Johnny: So are you.
Sean: I'm not going to do it. You do it.
Johnny: JUST DO IT, Sean!
Sean: If you want it open, you hit the button. I'm waiting outside.
Johnny: You won't be able to get in the garage if you don't hit the button. I'm not doing it.
Sean: Fine.
Johnny: Sean, you better not go outside without opening that...
(Sfx: Back door opens, Sean exits)
Johnny: That's it, mister!
(Sfx: Back door opens, Johnny exits)
Johnny: Get back inside and open that garage door now, or you'll be sorry.
Sean: You're not the boss of me.
Johnny: Oh yeah?
Sean: Hey! Give me my towel back!
Johnny: Not until you open that garage door!
Sean: Fine. Keep the towel. Dad will make you give it back to...OW! That hurt.
Johnny: You deserve that for...OW! Hey! Get back here you little brat.
Sean: Dad, help! Dad, help! Johnny's trying to kill me!
It's only two more days until school starts. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
