It is past eight at night and yet my "other" wife's kids are still jumping around in their room and screaming and throwing stuff and banging against the wall and generally causing quite a ruckus. Lees, which is the name I've given her, has four kids, three of which they live with us. They have never really had a stable environment like we have here. They are used to being kicked around from home to home and friend to buddy to lover to whatever. They can be extremely cute and extremely rude and they do not like listening to adults and they don't like following rules and they DEFINITELY do NOT like going to bed.
I feel like I'm being really mean but all I'm saying here is the truth.
Their bedtime is 7pm. And It's 8:39 now. This means that Lees is going to go in there, hand raised and guns blazing. This means that the nightly beatings are about to commence.
When she goes in there and smacks them for not listening, it reminds me of the movie The Midnight Meat Train and I debate the idea and importance of a sort of necessary evil that is bad but exists for the greater good. I mean, sure beating kids is bad. We can all agree on that. But what if the kids getting beaten actually deserve it? What if that is the only way that they know that the shit going down is serious and that they should listen? What if, due to their repeatedly unstable living environments, they respond not to calm suggestions but to anger and yelling and, indeed, violence.
Anyway, the ritualistic Late Night Beatings have now begun.
All glory to hypnotoad.
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