(scene opens in cluttered kitchen)
Me: (taking her daily Flintstone vitamin, holds out handful for Husband)
Husband: I’ve always been a Wilma kind of guy (picks one up)
Me: That’s Betty. (points) This is Wilma.
Husband: (picks it up, squints) How can you tell?
Me: I have better eye sight than you.
Husband: Oh. I thought you were going to say that one has better legs.
(scene starts in bedroom, Carrot knee deep in girl toys)
Me: (sorting, cleaning, organized)
(off screen the shouts and yells of boys)
Me: (sighs, extracts self, goes downstairs)
(scene begins in kitchen, moderately clean)
Delta: (wailing in toddler)
Alpha: (throwing up hands) That’s it! I’m done! I’m done! No more!
Beta: (sees disapproving Carrot in the doorway) Delta gets upset because the show ends and he wants another one.
Alpha: (outraged) And he doesn’t tell me what he wants, he just cries for what he wants! We already showed him out to use the remote!
Me: (sighs, rubs forehead) He’s four, guys. He needs help using the remote for a smart TV. That’s a little above his pay grade.
Beta: (indignant) He can do lots of things above his pay grade. He should be able to use a smart remote!
Me: (with salt) Almost like how, as teenagers, you should be able to brush your teeth twice a day without me yelling at you, yet for some reason that seems to be way beyond your pay grade.
(camera cuts to three way stare down)
Alpha: (sighs, takes Delta’s hand, head to tv room) I’ll fix it for you, Delta.
Me: (silent and strategic retreat)
