Dozer: “Who’s Beelzebub”
Kali: “A demon who eats children.”
Demonic: “How come he didn’t eat you?”
Kali: “Because Mom scares Beelzebub.”
This is the conversation I woke up to Friday morning. It’s fairly typical of my sister’s house.
Later in the day, because it was cold and nasty out, and because they’re annoyed at having to share me with Uji, I went to read to the boys. On the way back to the boys’ room, Demonic shoved past, running full-tilt to get to the door first.
“Demonic Antony, how many times has your mother told you not to do that? Get back here.” Demonic has a very rounded head. He look s a little like a blond, badass Charlie Brown when he sulks.
Me: “Because I like him.”
Demonic: “Pod, do you ever go on dates with Koshka?”
Me: “No, honey, Koshka only dates men.”
Dozer: “Pod, who’s Beelzebub?”
“A demon who eats children,” I echoed. Something I’ve discovered is that consistency is very important in rearing children. The argument of “Well, ___ lets me do it” is something we try desperately to avoid.
“I wanna see Beelzebub!”
“You bite your tongue., Demonic. We just vacuumed the floor, the last thing I want is a demon coming through it.”
“Is Beelzebub scared of you, too, Pod?”
“Naw, Dozer, he’s not scared of me. He’s just scared that if he does anything to me, your mom will take him out.”