I normally put the boys to bed. It's a simple routine, actually. Pajamas, brush teeth, Ladder Talk, and a tickle attack, followed by a story. Ten minutes later, I leave the room and celebrate their snoring with a beer. Sometimes two. Angie decided tonight that she needed more mommy time and announced that she would be tucking the animals into bed. I reluctantly agreed and explained the rules. Turn off the bright light, don't give them anything wet and never feed them. Yeah, they're a lot like Gremlins.
Confident that Angie was adequately armed, I went to the fridge to celebrate in advance. About ten minutes later, the melancholy sounds of spastic blubbering filled the apartment.
Apparently, the cute, furry Mogwais had chosen a book on the tropical rain forest. Everything was fine and dandy until the third page, which depicted a tapir. An innocent little tapir, just lounging around, munching on some leaves. Behind the tapir was a flap, that when lifted revealed a leaping jaguar about to devour the poor thing. It was at this point that the flood gates of Peter's conscience opened.
'Mama, there are so many problems I have to solve. Tapirs are being eaten by jaguars. Rain forests are being cut down. Even the whales are getting extincted!'
At this point, Mama tried to help.
'Actually, the rain forests are being cut down, so the Jaguars have no place to live either.'
Here's where David joined the rainbow ranch of animal lovers.
'THE JAGUARS ARE BEING KILLED, TOO??!!! BUT, THEY'RE MEAT EATERS - I THOUGHT ONLY THE PLANT EATERS GET EXTINCTED?!! WHAT DID THEY EVER DO?!! AAAAGGGHHHH!!!'
It was interesting that David didn't give two shits about the rain forest, the tapirs, or the whales. I don't even think he cared about the jaguars, but he felt compelled to take a position and, well - Peter had already chosen his corner.
Two hours later, Angie emerged and headed straight for the fridge. Something about the look she gave me when I asked her how it went told me that I'll be doing the bedtime stories for the next decade.
