You know, it’s bad enough when you have to deal with the bad breath, the scorching, and the mess  (what the HELL do they eat that comes out smelling THAT bad???)…  but I SPECIFICALLY told them I was NOT going to play baby sitter to a brood of the little demons.

I explained the facts of life to them, even going as far as doing research so I wouldn’t steer them wrong, but it appears it was all for naught.

Oh, they gave me some lame excuses…  you know the ones…  about how it couldn’t happen while they were flying, or how it couldn’t happen their first time over a new continent, or how they just didn’t do such things!  Yeah.  Right.

So now I’m stuck.  And it’s no fun, either.  They won’t do as I say, they fly right in front of your face buzzing around like a giant mosquito, and a burp can end up burning the house down!  The little bastards think they’re the gods of the universe, since they can fly and breathe fire!   I try to take them down a notch now and then… I’ve told them it’s only methane, and it only works because there’s a venting error going on, but they’re having none of that.

The British accents on the big ones lend them an air of solemnity and wisdom, but I’m beginning to suspect it’s an affectation rather than an inborn trait.  The little ones sound ridiculously squeaky, and it’s a hoot to listen to them try to sound dignified and wise…  that’s just not going to work.  Especially when they start calling each other names.  Sibling rivalry runs rampant in this brood, as I suspect it does in all of them, and apparently ” fire proof ” is the vilest of invectives.  It cracks me up every time they use it on each other…  all I can hear is some little brat from London, after a hit from a helium balloon.  (Don’t tell them… they’re still a bit sensitive about their voices.  It’s something they’ll grow out of eventually, but you know kids…  later might as well be forever)

The only thing that saves their little greenish backsides is that they’re so damned cute when they’re asleep!  (Which supposedly only happens when they’re little.  The big ones claim never to sleep.  I don’t know whether to believe them or not.)

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