Accomplishment: Lord Veltha VS Children Round 1!

O sing me O muse a tail of woe
Of chaos aplenty a short time ago

"ARRRRRRG!"

...

Thank you muse. The Muse ladies and gentlemen. Thanks for coming. Hope you enjoyed the blog. Drive home safely. Don't pick up passengers unless they're carrying a towel. Always use a condom. Good night.

So we, being the benevolent future overlord that we are, who refer to ourselves in the "We Tense" from time to time, agreed to volunteer our time at a place for a thing. The place was a shelter style place. The thing was a reading style thing. What could possibly go wrong?

Well... nothing. Everything happened as it did because it happened as it should, or something. We got there, introduced ourselves, sat down, and then one of the little children type things asked to sit on our royal lap as we read. Seems like just a short time ago our personal space took up most of the globe and we were resentful of everyone invading it. Oh how the mighty have fallen, scraped their knee, looked up, and said, "That was a stupid thing to do. I should have listened to my mother." We even surprised ourselves when we gave a positive reply. Imagine us allowing a strange grubby little meat bag to sit on our lap. (Nobody is taking what I write seriously, right? Quick show of hands. Okay. Good. Just checking.) We think it was fear that drove our decisions. They were restless and we didn't wish to provoke them.

The first story went fairly well. It was a little book called "Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type," about a rebel band of bovines that send regular letters to the editor and refuse to produce when their demands for comfort are not met. There was audience participation. Life was good.

You'll have to forgive us if we do not relay the facts as they have happened. One of our frequent struggles is between ourselves and our memory, and our memory keeps forgetting when we're supposed to meet and resume the epic battle. I seem to recall there being arguments about what book to read next. The "This one next." "You picked the last one!" "I want to read this one!" "Can I read?" "No, I get to read next!" "Let him read!" "Put down that gun!" "Make me!" "Can I have another cookie?" variety. There's an unwritten rule among children that when someone new shows up everyone has to act up and misbehave. This is fine. We tried to continue reading, but eventually we did what we usually do when we realize we have no control over a situation.

We broke into song.

It got them to be quiet. As it turns out, even the most attention deficit child has to sit down and pay attention to the lyrics of "I'm My Own Grandpa" so they don't miss anything. Once the song ended the babel resumed. One girl attempted to keep the peace by instituting the Quiet Game, but then the kids started arguing about the rules.

Take your time with that. Don't let any of the irony escape.

If we recall correctly, we attempted to take control by bellowing, in our most booming overlord tone, something along the lines of, if I'm not mistaken, "Cease and desist at once! Silence your faces!" When one of the children attempted to protest I pointed a dramatic finger towards them and ordered, "You! You have a face! Silence it!"

I needed to take control. Most of the children were starved for attention. They did not have the attention for stories. Everyone wanted to talk at once. The best thing I could think of at the time was to play a game. Hodge Podge was probably not the best choice for this group of youngsters, but it came to mind and I needed to be an overlord. Sometimes it's best to just crush the opposition with an iron fist and figure out a better plan once you've scraped them off of your metal gauntlet. In order to play Hodge Podge, the participants need to sit in a circle. Squabbling over chairs commenced. Afterwards I attempted to explain the rules, which probably didn't get through to them and again they couldn't stop talking long enough to play it. They decided "Don't Don't Don't" was a better game.

"Don't Don't Don't" is a game every child knows. People are divided into two teams: The Moderator and everyone else. I played the part of The Moderator, which is the role the oldest in the group tends to play. The object of the game is to keep it going as long as possible by distracting The Moderator and keeping them from realizing the only way to end the game is to realize it's a game and end it. Typically, the longer the game goes the louder and more violently it ends due to the build-up of The Moderator's frustration. By the nature of the game it is easier to play when there are more than two people. The game is played when one person does something they are not supposed to, to which The Moderator responds, "Don't." Then the next player attempts to break the same rule thing or something similar to the rule the first player was trying to break, to which The Moderator replies, "Don't." The cycle continues. Each player takes a turn frustrating The Moderator and then they repeat. We played this game with three kids. We managed to break the cycle after the second round began. "Don't Don't Don't" is a game nobody wins.

Now, here's a funny thing. Before we left we had enough time to read a children's book we wrote some time in high school. They were interested. It's... weird. We mean, they started talking while we were reading it, but we still had their attention. They were discussing ways the limbless protagonist, a robot snake, could play basketball. (I wrote this for a specific kid. "What are the coolest things in the world?" "Snakes, robots, and basketball." "... okie doke.") It was the most attentive they had been all day; even more than when we were reading Click Clack Moo. We don't know why that strikes me as odd, but it does. Then we left 'cause it was time to go. That's pretty logical.

We think we're goin' back. They'll be easier to deal with once we become regulars. We think they'll be easier to deal with if we can play with them rather than try to keep them quiet and still.

The muse is hungry. We better go feed it.

Stay tuned for our next thrilling adventure: Lord Veltha VS The Hippie Beatnik Open Mic Poetry Readers...
OF DOOM!