So Divan gets this crazy idea to have a successful lineage which means the impossible.
(How do you suppose you will help with homework when your children NEVER do it?)
“That’s not up to me, Creator. You’re the genius. YOU figure it out.” Then he wanders off to the gym and instead of working out, he plays Maniac Matchums on the game pad.
Huh boy. Well the only thing I can think of is to get the kids focused and maybe they’ll WANT to do their homework. So I plop in a few focusing lamps in the kitchen where the kids tend to congregate.
Little do Levi and Lindsey know what I’m up to and wham!
They hug each other oblivious to my powers. Heh…heh…
“Gosh, Lindsey, what’s that orange thing in your hand?” Levi asks.
“Homework, dummy. We’re supposed to do it every day.”
She scratches her head. “I dunno, but I have this weird urge to do it.”
Unfortunately, Levi is unfazed by my evil plans and he happily marches past his sister, dutifully doing her homework.
“Glad I don’t have THAT urge,” he mumbles.
Meanwhile, I left Divan to his own devices too long and he plays himself to the point of exhaustion in that plum gaming pad.
(Geesh, Divan! Don’t you know when to quit?)
(Come on! It’s time to go home. Your energy meter is beet red. I’m TIRED of you failing all the time.)
“You think YOU’RE tired…”
(Huh boy. How many times has Divan faceplanted in this legacy so far? Too many to count. Urgh!)
After our TH sleeps a bit, he finally drags himself home.
(Didn’t I SPECIFICALLY tell you to go to your bed?)
Only snores answer my question.
(He never listens to me.)
All is nice and quiet. Divan is asleep on the couch. The twins are tucked in their beds. Kaila is quietly snoring in her bed and Hunter is…Hunter is…
Dagnabbit. Hunter is talking to his pet Skellybear.
“I am Hunter the Invincible and you, my poor insignificant skellybear, are one of my minions. Muahahahaaa!”
(Uh oh…the poor child is sounding a bit like me….I think I LIKE HIM!)
But then he ruins my delusions of making him the next heir by staying up ALL night playing on the monkey bars.
But he does help out by mopping up the floors in the wee hours of the early morning (even though his energy meter is blood red.)
Aww…look at his poor face.
(You MUST go to bed, HUNTER!)
But, of course, the little tyke can’t hear me.
(Yes, Hunter. It’s called a bed. You use it to go to sleep.)
He doesn’t understand. It’s a newfangled object to him.
(See? Your sister is using it properly.)
(And your brother.)
(NOW GO TO BED!)
I must have gotten through to him somehow because he quickly jumps under the covers and shivers then drifts off to sleep.