I Forgot How Much They Like to Talk

Ian and Ainsley are talkers. They love to tell jokes and stories. We have been working on understanding the differences between jokes, comic strips, and funny stories. Otherwise, the two of them call everything a joke and assume that simply repeating the words will mean it is funny.

Ian is into Garfield comics almost as much as he likes Star Wars. Calvin and Hobbes takes a close second in the preferred reading contest. Ian understands sarcasm and is adept at using it appropriately and with excellent vocal representation. Whether that is a factor of how much sarcasm he reads or experiences at home is open for debate. He definitely gets a substantial daily dose.

For months now both kids have been eager to tell jokes at every opportunity. Sometimes I have to use joke-telling as an incentive to get them to eat their dinner or clean up a mess they have made. The much-coveted reward of getting to tell a joke at the dinner table is often enough to get them to eat vegetables they don't like. They are all about WIIFM - "What's In It For Me?".

Ainsley is usually the one who has difficulty turning off her voice to accomplish other tasks. Of the two, Ian can bring forth the control to concentrate on what needs to get done, usually with his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Lately, however, that is not the case. Ian just won't stop his mouth. It goes constantly.

Last night they both turned on their motor mouths at the dinner table and literally could not stop talking. It was a race to see who could say the most words and consume the least amount of food. Occasionally, they would stop to stick a piece of yellow corn onto a tooth and proclaim to have a lucky chomper. Since they do this every time we eat corn, it has become very difficult for me to see the humor.

Ian wanted to discuss what is in dog food. He believes the first ingredient is fart powder. I tried to explain to him why this was not an appropriate topic of discussion for the dinner table, but he insisted on carrying through with his prepared speech on the nutrients of canine chow.

Then I realized his nauseating performance is an excellent method of curbing my appetite. Perhaps he has stumbled upon a new diet plan. I should take him to Weight Watchers meetings. He could be the new "Hungry" mascot. Even this morning I had difficulty consuming my Fiber One, blueberries, and yogurt. Then again, Fiber One isn't exactly the tastiest concoction on the planet.

I promised the kids that after dinner we would have Family Wii Night. It has been ages since we have challenged each other to anything physically demanding. Tennis was the first sport Ian wanted to try. He loves to bounce around waiting for a serve.

The smack talk started immediately It was unbearable. The two of them were so busy one-upping each other verbally that they missed easy plays. Then Ian would be furious and walk of the "court" in a huff. He reminded me of John McEnroe at the height of his tennis career. Even when he was ahead, he would still complain about something being unfair. Oi!

I fell asleep later hearing both of their voices in my head, arguing, teasing, smacking, joking. My own personal hell. At midnight I heard my name being beckoned from a distance. Ian was still awake, still reliving the same freakish nightmare I was having about voices. I have no idea what time he finally fell asleep. All I know is today is a Starbucks day ... venti triple shot ... cause I'm gonna give it all back to them later when the tired hits them hard. Really hard.

But first, I'm going to go polish my "Mother of the Year" award.