I'm not gonna lie; I'm horrible. Actually, so is Jannaya. We're both horrible people. But how can anyone resist when the reactions are always so spectacular (either in their outrageousness or their affinity to a simmering pot)?
Over the Christmas holidays we had two flying monkeys in our house. Dad brought them back from Honey Bee. You could take one and hook its front paws onto your index and middle fingers, then pull back the body and let it fly off your fingers like a slingshot. On its way through the air it lets out a calming, soothing screech. The first time I shot one it almost gave Bryan a heart attack (which was quite satisfying since he is NEVER jumpy and I'm always the one to freak out if something moves in my peripheral vision). Anyway, I'm getting distracted by thoughts of Bryan, as always. Onto my story.
SO...it was New Year's Day and the whole household was sitting down to a late brunch. All except our dear youngest sister. Do you see where this tale is going? Yes. Jannaya and I each took a flying monkey upstairs and carefully pushed her door open. Her fan was whirring loudly beside her head, which kept her from hearing the slow and ominous creak. Then Jannaya and I tiptoed slightly past the doorframe and took aim...we could just see the top of Courtney's head behind a thick layer of blankets.
Jannaya whispered "One...two...three!"
SCREECH!! SCREECH!!
We watched in slow motion as my monkey made a beeline for a blond head that was slowly starting to rise (Jannaya's monkey was way off-course, so it doesn't matter anymore). It hit the headboard with a loud smack just a nanosecond before her head got up to that level, possibly jarring her into a completely conscious state. I say "possibly" because Jannaya and I left before we could even see her reaction. Like elementary girls we giggled and ran back downstairs as if we'd just revealed our true feelings to a cute older boy.
Our reward was that affinity-to-a-simmering-pot thing I talked about earlier. I think she's forgiven us by now...right Courtney?

P.S. I think you should blog your own version of this story, but maybe leave out the words that were going through your head. They probably wouldn't be suitable for children.