Just another day here at the Cleaver house...

I present you with two scenarios, typical of daily life here in the very Cleaver-esque EW household (would you expect anything less?):

First scenario: The kids have been non-stop bickering all day. This bickering escalates considerably when I demand gently suggest with kisses and hugs and promises of cookies and pony rides that the children clean up their playroom. I mistakenly tell them to do this together. When they initially refuse, I threaten to sell them to a band of gypsies remind them that Ward will give them a talking to if he sees that their playroom is a shit hole in disarray. Eventually they comply because they don't want to lose their videogames hate to disappoint us. (*Note: I suppose June would happily tidy the toy room herself, all while keeping her coif neatly in place and her dress maintaining the appearance of being freshly pressed. Fuck you, June. I am sick to death of bending over 10,000 times a day to clean up legos that, when they're not painfully embedded in the heel of my foot, are so small they're nearly impossible to detect with the naked eye).

But if only it were that easy. Eventually, exasperated and sick of hearing exchanges such as "You're just a poo poo diaper baby." "No YOU'RE the poo poo diaper baby." "Mom! Maggie called me a poo poo diaper baby!" I repress the urge to scream "You're BOTH poo poo diaper babies!" and instead inform them both that they're no longer allowed to speak to each other ANYMORE. For the rest of their lives. To which Wally and the Beav respond with enthusiastic cheers of, "YAY!" while doing a sort of jig around the playroom. I should have seen that one coming.

Second scenario: The weekend. It's bedtime and the kids are having a camp-out style sleep-over in my room. As usual, they have refused to eat dinner, therefore their bedtime snack is restricted to fruit and dry cereal such as Cheerios. Maggie approaches me to ask for popcorn and cookies, a request which needless to say I deny. She informs me that her brother told her to demand that I provide them with popcorn and cookies and that if I refuse, to hit me. She relays this information to me with a look that clearly says that she understands that this is not advisable. At that point it becomes clear to me that Bear is pulling an "Eddie Haskell" by setting his sister up for his own amusement, and I imagine him in my bedroom suppressing snorts and giggles with his ear to my door in an attempt to eavesdrop on our exchange. I mean, who would want to miss out on that shit storm? "Dance, puppet, dance!" I imagine him thinking as Maggie set out on her mission. For him I guess it's a win-win situation. Either she comes back with cookies and popcorn, or he gets to see what happens when his baby sister tries to put the screws to their mother. Good times all around. Of course, Ward and I did give him a talking to.

I'll actually take these Stepford Children because they seem to be eating whatever it is that's on their plates without whining, crying, gagging, or lying prostrate on the floor.