Whisper Scream

Luca and our Alexa machine are in the middle of a passionate love affair. He seems to be the only one who talks to her, asking her forty times a day who won what game that day. He’s very nice about it, unlike my snapping at her to stop playing whatever Grateful Dead son Diana played before leaving the room. Alexa will surely spare Luca when the machines rise up.

Luca’s fandom came to a head when the Cubs had a one game playoff to get into the post season. By the time I got home that night, he was in a fever pitch. His voice was unable to lower under scream level.

Unfortunately, Diana had her eyeball shots earlier that day, which really knocked her out. She didn’t see on the calendar it was National Clumsy Technician Day, so her eyes were pretty beat up. The best plan of action was to sleep.

Our bedroom happens to be directly over our little TV area, so any and all sports screaming travels up our walls and air conditioning ducts and into our bed.

I made Luca a deal: If he could resist screaming, he could watch the entire game, even if went past his bedtime. Elijah asked if he could have the same deal, but without watching the game. Nope. So he suddenly became a Cubs fan.

Within the first 10 minutes of the game, Luca screamed his head off. Strike One. He got to Strike Two after seeing one of our clients were advertising in the game.

I suggested he try a technique I like to call “Whisper Screaming.” This worked surprisingly well. But for some reason the boys had to also move in slow motion. They would slowly leap from their chairs, slow motion strut across the room and whisper, “Whooooohooooo!”

This seemed to disturb Grover the Dog more than if the boys were legit screaming.

The game ended up tied at the end of the 9^th and I was tired. I canceled our stay up past bedtime deal. But I agreed to buy them some Fortnite crap so they still got to Whisper Scream in delight.