Click on. Click off. Click on. Click off. Click, click, click.
Do these people have nothing better to do? Stop touching me! I mean really, staring blankly half the time, ignoring but for sound, loudly shaping the room and all its aura, the rest. Sigh. Why not just leave well enough alone, I mean, hey, you're children would do well to just sit and not touch me. Everytime one of them touches me I wince, those sticky syrup-laced chocolate-chunk fingers grabbing at me, fighting for me, changing what it is they want. Over and over again.
Makes one go batty it does.
And don't get me started on the man of the house. PLEASE! Someone tell this guy to go to bed! At least put me down, don't cling to me like a lifeboat survivor clinging to their last moments, like a child (ironically his children) in desperation. Click, click, click. CHOOSE ONE ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And this issue with losing me. How difficult is it to place me somewhere safe, up high, away from those meddling dirty fingered kids and that stupid green eyed feline that dares to touch me, adding insult to injury!
Nope. Most of the day it's just click, click, and click some more. Their prints all up on me, making me seethe in anger for being stirred from my peaceful state.
Waiting for the day the batteries die.