Recently, our house has been full of unholy noises. We don’t have pests; the weather is, as usual, windy but nothing special, yet it feels like our house is possessed by a malicious spirit that keeps howling, screeching and shouting “kill, kill, kill” in mindless rage.
All because our daughter discovered Fortnite, and each time she has a chance to sit at the big computer, mayhem and chaos unfold.
We have a few computers in the house. So-called the main computer – a big stationary desktop suitable for heavy gaming serves Mark as an editing station while I’m working on my gaming laptop or a much more portable Samsung book.
My ‘lappies’ are sacred to me, and an overactive teen with hammers for fingers isn’t allowed anywhere near them; Mark’s computer is a completely different story, and she pesters him endlessly.
He is a very soft-hearted teddy bear and allows her to treat his machine like a Death Star training station to our endless entertainment from listening to the wild, animalistic noises she makes while we are mainly downstairs in the living room watching a movie.
I have to say I kind of envy her youthful ability to express herself in the loudest possible way. I live by the people’s proverb that I’m “so middle class that I’d sooner keel over than make a fuss.”
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