So...every day at 5:30 p.m., my two little boys put their lives on hold to watch "The Brady Bunch" on PBS. They each get a pillow for the couch, lay down in their special spots on the floor, and are comatose until the final "laugh" when they slowly return to consciousness and I can get them to talk to me again. Isn't it strange? I watched the Brady Bunch with a certain cult-like worship when I was young and now my children have found their way to the Brady house all on their own. What exactly is the appeal?
Anyway...today's episode was the one where Greg decides that because he is now a high school freshman, he deserves his own bedroom. He buys the vest with the fringe, the hip hugging striped bell bottoms, and big, dark sunglasses and turns his dad's "den" into his groovy bedroom. Are you with me? Do you remember this episode? Well, ole' Greg Brady lit a real bonfire under my boys because midway through the show they both jumped up and announced that they wanted their own rooms. They didn't even finish watching the episode before they had moved themselves out of the bedroom they share and in to their own "groovy" bedrooms (Jake has used that word more than a dozen times tonight and I'm starting to worry). Matthew moved himself in to the living room. He unrolled a huge foam camping pad, moved all his blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals, and brought 5 pairs of super hero underwear that he draped all over the big, blue armchair. He brought a pair of pajamas, some play clothes, and an extra pair of warm socks.
Jacob moved in to the guest room downstairs. He set up 5 library books against the night stand for some "night time reading", brought down all his bed stuff, his school uniform, his play clothes, some extra underwear, and decorated the night stand with plastic trees and dinosaurs. Both boys are sound asleep in their new digs. They couldn't WAIT to go to bed tonight. They were in jammies at 7:00 p.m. and begging for bed at 7:30 p.m. I hate Greg Brady. If my sons show up tomorrow morning with fringe and tight pants, I'm suing PBS.
Tonight at dinner Matthew asked us if he could get a car. Earlier today he told me he wanted a "motor scooter" so he could "get around easier". Just where on earth is my 4-year old having a hard time getting around to? And why are my kids growing up so fast?
They are now banned from PBS and the Brady Bunch.
