Carrie Link

"THE YELLING GAME"

"Mom, come and see the 'alleulia' show," Rojo says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the TV. "That is my favorite show. I like the yelling."

With fixed eyes he watches televangelists do their thing for several days in a row, then decides to give it a try, Rojo style:

"Mom?" Rojo says, "What time do you want to play our yelling game?"

"Not until Woohoo wakes up," I answer.

"So, what time will Woohoo wake up?" he persists.

"Let's say 10:00, I will play the yelling game at 10:00."

"Great! Don't forget! Don't forget at 10:00 we are going to play the yelling game! Don't forget to play it right. Don't forget that when I yell something three times, you clap and cheer, and that will be every two minutes, and a real two minutes, not a pretend two minutes."

"Okay, we will play the yelling game at 10:00, and I will remember to clap and cheer."

"Every real two minutes," he adds.

"Okay," I assure.

"So you won't forget? You won't forget that at 10:00 we are going to play the yelling game and you are going to clap and cheer every real two minutes?"

"No, I won't forget."

9:55 rolls around and he's breathing down my neck, huge smile on his face, dimples that couldn't be cuter, "Mom? Are you ready to start our game? It is almost 10:00, and we need to go get ready for the yelling game."

I traipse after him, sitting in the denim covered Pottery Barn chair-and-a-half, he's crouched down at the matching ottoman, fingers flying all over "his" computer, "words" typing across the screen. He is a televangelist, and is providing his own closed-captioning.

"Ready," I say, and he turns from the computer towards me, puts him arms in "classic televangelist" pose and begins yelling.

"Denver is playing but they cannot PLAY! They cannot PLAY, because the Broncos are in Pittsburgh. PITTSBURGH cannot play, because they cannot play. They cannot PLAY, because they cannot PLAY!"

I am to keep my eye on my watch, and when he repeats himself three times, I'm to clap and cheer. If two minutes goes by and there has not been such a triple repeat, then I am to spontaneously break into thunderous applause.

"They have the ball, but they cannot have the BALL! They don't have the ball, the ball is there but they do not HAVE the ball! The New England Patriots HAVE the ball, but they do not have the BALL!"

My mind starts to wander, I forget my duties, all activity comes to a screeching halt.

"MOM! You are not clapping and cheering! You are not clapping and cheering every real two minutes!"

"Oh, sorry, right, okay..." I stumble through my apology.

"That's okay," he says, "but now you have to write a blog about this."