Another floof-inspired choice. Two of our three boys squared off. Mewing, yowling, and growling, Boo said, “There’s not room for two of us in this entryway.” Papi’s got us back up. “You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? There’s no one else here so you must be talkin’ to me.”
It was Saturday night. “Enough,” I said. “Keep it up, and I’ll get the squirt gun. Boo, be quiet. Papi, go around him.”
They did as told. Yeah, surprised me, too. Guess they feared that squirt gun. As Boo went out and I closed the door behind him, I finished, “Saturday night’s not alright for fighting.”
That, of course, introduced the Elton John/Bernie Taupin tune of that name from 1973, when I was just seventeen. Here we go.