Our niece, Brooke, flew in from a Los Angeles vacation last evening. Her plane landed just as the Blackhawks and Ducks started Game 4. Daddy and the brunette twin went to pick-up Brooke and drive her to meet Uncle Len.
I stayed home with the blond twin. We watched the first period with Grammie, who happily explained everything about hockey to the blond twin. When we made it home, the blond twin started asking me questions, making general comments and rambling about whatever thought floated to the top.
By the time Daddy and the brunette twin made it home, I was exhausted. I just couldn't talk about hockey any more. All I wanted to do was sit quietly and watch the game.
Daddy and the brunette twin settled into the family room with us. The blond twin and brunette twin started asking questions and making general comments. After a few minutes, I put up my hands and said, "Stop talking." I kept saying it every time the girls started talking.
After a few minutes of hearing "stop talking," Daddy said, "If you're going to keep doing that, you have to watch the game in the other room." I said, "Girls, talk to Daddy now."
It didn't take much of the nonstop questions and commenting before Daddy told the girls to be quiet. I didn't say anything. I just sat with a smirky, half-smile on my face. The girls didn't stop talking. They just started talking to each other rather than talking to us. Finally Daddy had enough. He told them that if they didn't stop talking they would have to go to bed.
As regulation time expired, we settled into a tense, mostly-quiet overtime. The girls broke the silence once in a while, but Daddy kept reminding them that they agreed to be quiet. At one point he seemed annoyed that they just wouldn't stop talking. I patted his knee and said, "You know this is going on the blog." Both girls laughed. Daddy just rolled his eyes with his own smirky, half-smile.