What has more energy than a giant ball of gas fusing millions and billions of hydrogen atoms into helium?
An eleven year old wired on the equivalent of at least 2L of Coca-Cola.
In fact, the only thing more entertaining to watch was Marble the very first time she got a sugar rush from stealing and consuming an entire loaf of bread. She ran laps in the living room, leaping onto the sofa and then off again for a solid ten minutes before I could shoo her outside, where she continued her mad dash to nowhere.
Had it not been after nine and raining when we got back in to town, I would have sent Mr. Smarty-pants running around the block a few or thirty times.
Where did he get the illicit sugar laden caffeine? My dad, of course. It’s what grandparents do. They ply them with sugar and then hand them back to you, laughing maniacally as you drive off, and mutter, “Revenge, sweet revenge!!!”
Okay, maybe that’s just my imagination. To be fair, poor Papa did look quite taken aback when I told him I did not actually provide sodas on a regular basis. Mr. Smarty-pants is very good at talking people into things. In the month he was gone his sisters did not once do a heart-stopping dare devil stunt or insanely stupid adventure. He’s the one that thinks those things up and then convinces his sisters that they should be the ones to do it.
Not to mention, my minions don’t need extra energy. If I fueled them with that stuff, all the coffee in the world could not aid me in keeping up with them. Seeing as how my minions are all little manifestations of my reshuffled DNA, and I did have sodas on a regular basis at Mr. Smarty-Pant’s age, I gain a new respect for my parents.
The good news? Suns go nova and collapse into dwarf stars or, in some cases, a black hole (Miss Drama’s current obsession, which is a topic for another day). So, at about 1a.m., a good three hours after I sent him to bed, he and his sister, Miss Drama, finally crashed. Miss Diva decided staying with a friend was far more entertaining than a nine hour car ride, and so missed the sugar driven “ZOMG I’M SO HAPPY TO BE HOME” craziness. I can’t really blame her. It saved her from getting pantsed….another story.
When they crashed, they crashed hard. I actually got to sleep in and got up before them.
Miracles do happen.