Day 2 Of The ABI....

I have now made up codenames for four of the five combatants. These nick names are based on the various activities that they do repeatedly. It is always an eye opening thing to see the combatants in action. The various trials of manipulation from one. The whining from another. The anger eruptions from another. It is all very educational.

So we have Mr. Furious. He is a seven year old combatant who likes long walks on the beach, sunsets, and conversation--oh wait, that's not right. D'oh! He is in fact seven. He has two main moods--Happiness, and Furiosity (made up word that sounds cool). He rarely has moods in the middle of these two emotions. He makes the day interesting.

Then we have The Heckler. The heckler is a six year old female. Aside from the obvious heckling she does, she also tattles. He plan of attack? Heckle the victim into responding, then she comes running out to tell on the response. Conveniently leaving out the small detail of the heckling it took to get said response.

Then we have Jelloy. That is short for jello boy. This is what happens when he has a bit of a strop. Now this is accompanied by the loud wailing noise as well. He is not a silent stropper! No man, or woman in my case can contain his jelloy goodness once a fit is in process. It is a sight to behold. Mostly because you can't hold him.

Then we have the seven year old girl. Her name is actually two names, because she is just so diabolical. She is the Fiboarder. She can spin the truth into something it is not. There for she fibs. She also hides things, like she is hoarding them. So she fibs and hoards! Hence the name.

The visiting two year old I like to call The Picker. No he does not pick his nose, or butt. He picks at his food. It is a royal fight to get him to eat his lunch. Normally I put maybe three tablespoons of food on his plate. He picks at this. The child would live on air alone if I let him. That or juice. He is a small but worthy foe.

This day is dragging. Could be that they have me wrapped in chains, so I can't stop them from doing whatever strikes their collective fancy. How am I typing this you might ask? Mental telepathy!

Hold me.