Volume Control

Jungle version of SJG

It's true, I have an issue with volume, and I'm not just speaking about my hair. Hair-wise, I could use more volume. Much more. Ear-wise, I could use less. Much less. I'm forever complaining about the noise level in my house. Has this endeared me to my family? Let me think about that. No. The menfolk like things loud. TV? Loud. Video games? Loud. Music? Loud. Everything? Loud.

The SJG is a dainty soul. I like things quiet. Has it made for some conflict? Only on a daily basis. The moment the sons popped out of my anatomy, they started wailing. It only got worse from there. Soon they were wailing on each other, punching and pummeling each other into the ground in a very noisy fashion. My frequent requests and endless threats were met with hysterical, testosterone-driven laughter and lifetime memberships to the World Wrestling Federation.

Where did I go wrong?

On Saturday, after UCLA beat the crap out of some other team, I asked the youngest, in my subtle way, "Is the game over? I'm turning off the TV." This simple question inspired him to mimic his one and only mother, giving me a Brooklyn accent, even though he knows I was born in a car in Los Angeles. A sample of his cruel impersonation, which he secretly recorded and sent to his equally loud brother via Snapchat:
1. Can you turn it down, please?
2. What's going on up there?
3. When you have your own house, you can make as much noise as you want.
4. What's with all the noise?
5. Turn it down or I'm ripping it out of the wall.
6. Why is it so @#$%ing loud?
7. The walls are shaking!
8. Just once, could you show some consideration?
9. I can still hear it.
10. If you need me, I'll be in my padded cell at the institution.