I love my life sometimes.

Well, today has been quite a lovely day. And so was yesterday.

Hannibal is gone to "visit his family in the distance" for four days (which means he is probably cheating on me with that Clarice woman I found in his cell phone, whoever she is), and Johnny is "gone on a business trip" (which means he's gone on a business trip - I'm just so used to putting things in air quotes now. Hard to break a bad habit).

So for the past couple days, it's just been Robert and I, plus a grounded Michael, alone in our big mother of a house. Just the three of us. I decided to let Michael keep his phone during his grounding. He can't call anyone, but he can play with it all he wants. Now, I know this might sound like I "went soft"... but if it sounds like that, then, you obviously have never met Michael. You try taking away everything my borderline insane son who probably has intermittent explosive disorder loves for three and a half weeks. Try keeping your house standing up and everyone in the neighborhood alive if you do that.

Sorry, moment of brutal honesty there. I HAD AN ELLEN DEGENERES MOMENT.

Sorry. Moment of talk-show dorkiness there.

Anyway, letting Mike keep his phone was probably the best decision I ever made, because for the past couple days, he, Robert and I have been doing nothing but veg comfortably in the living room watching cheesy scary movies from the 70s, and also truly frightening movie-length home videos the boys made. And while we have been vegging, we have not heard one peep out of Michael. He just sits on the loveseat in his cute little blue jumpsuit and texts all day on that phone of his. It's like he is transfixed. Robert and I were actually able to have a decent conversation about Jaws this morning without being interrupted by a constant stream of "wench" and likewise "cool" teenage proclamations. Because it's like we don't even exist to him when he is texting. He is in his own little world.

Truly.

Do you know what that reminds me of? This one time a couple years ago when one of Michael's innocent little cousins stabbed him with a hanger, and he proceeded to have a complete nervous breakdown, brandishing knives around and such, and Edna's husband Sam Loomis was forced to intervene, and then Michael was given Thorazine. Y'know? Texting is the new Thorazine.

Actually.

Maybe, as a reward for his good behavior lately, I'll go up to Vonage tomorrow and get unlimited text put on his phone. Yes, that sounds like a plan. After all, his unusual silence is a welcome break and is currently enriching my life.

Or at least it will until Hannibal and Johnny return.