After the boy and girl were done with dinner tonight, the man was taking them upstairs and I heard the boy utter, "That's SOOO 90's" to something his father said with as much disdain and hatred as he could muster.
So 90's!? Wasn't that just yesterday? And this is after we served the boy and the girl a romantic dinner at Chez Ribbit replete with fancy dinner plates, princess costume (which you can't see beneath the table), neck tie, a fine white June 12 expiration 2%, and the only candles we had in the house.
I even talked like a blasted high dollar waiter AND was stiffed a tip. Rotten children. However, the boy made the happiest plate he has in a long while and ate all of his garden variety Dragon Tongue beans, so you'll see that addition in the side bar.
I'll spare you the girl flapping her hands by her ears like she was fending of demons and screaming, "Get them off, get them off!"
Then, in the ultimate you-know-you're-old-when moment, I seriously considered making a sign that warns all Japanese beetles that there will be no more fornicating in my garden. That's yucky. At least they're too preoccupied to realize it when I dump them in soapy water. How's that for a cold shower. How ya' like me now, you ruttin' fools. There will be no engaging in extra curricular activities on my watch.
The nerve of some bugs. The morning comes early. Sweet gardening dreams.