When the Twitch Rears

Two kids were fighting on the playground. I came up to them, pulled them apart, and said:

"Look at me! Look at yourselves! You wanna keep on fighting like this the rest of your lives?! It's all you guys do, is fight! You know why we get mad telling you not to fight? Cuz you'll keep doing it the rest of your life if you don't learn otherwise! You guys know Dinkytown, right? Right over there? There are bars around there with people my age. Adults. You know what a lot of them like to do? Fight. All the time. Sometimes just for looking at each other funny. You give them a juice that adults drink, alcohol, and all they want to do is fight! You wanna be like them?! DO YA?! Jeeze, you're totally going to turn out like that. You don't listen! You're gonna go to jail, you keep it up. If I have to tell you again to not punch each other you're going to my version of jail. The picnic table! You got it?! You wanna be drunken losers in Dinkytown?! I didn't think so! Don't let me catch you punching each other again, or I'm calling your parents and sending you to jail. GOT IT?!

Now, who wants to go into the peanut butter machine?"

Needless to say, I hardly had any sleep last night, and my first sip of coffee was still waiting to be savored. I've also decided I'm going to be a peanut butter monster birthed from the "peanut butter machine" (a stupid plastic orange tube on our playground) for the Miniapple version of Halloween.

The Dead Weather -- "I Cut Like a Buffalo"