Achilles' Ear

We learned a new thing about the Tweedle Twirp this weekend. And that is, despite the fact that she is the Smartest Brown, she becomes frozen with stupidity when there is music playing. I mean just stopped in her tracks. Like a deer in headlights. When music is on, that girl is Bambi.

Among the many lovely gifts I got, my parents gave me the C.D. Elvis 30 #1 Hits, which of course I had to play over and over again during the course of the weekend. I even have a special dance I do for "A Little Less Conversation." So, the album was playing for the nth time as Tweeds and I attempted to do the crossword puzzle sans our father's help. But the Tweedle Twirp just wasn't having it. "I can't think when there's music on," she said in voice that came awfully close to a whine. And whenever she was particularly stumped, she'd say, "I'm never going to get this if you keep that C.D. on." After a while, she would quit and amble away, only to come back to help out again until the music--again--infected her brain, once more rendering it worthless. And so we would lather rinse and repeat until, despite "In the Ghetto" and her constant defections, we did manage to complete the New York Times Saturday crossword puzzle (which any crossword aficionado knows is the hardest puzzle of the week). They almost had us at "A place you'll see a nun," but, finally, I got "dreidel" and we cheered our brilliance. Oh, those clever New York Times crossword people!.

To continue. Later in the day we decided the family needed to entertain itself in order to make sure we didn't kill each other (always a fear in the Brown family household). We'd already gone to a movie (Die Another Die, which everyone but the Mama Brown enjoyed) and we'd already watched two--count 'em, two--DVDs (Sullivan's Travels and Miracle at 34th Street, for those of you playing along at home. Somehow, both Tweeds and I had gone thirtyplus years never having seen Miracle. And yes, even the Littlest Brown is thirtyplus years). No one wanted to play Scrabble (ah, the mighty soul who is willing to take me on in Scrabble). So we played Trivial Pursuit. We played with different sets of cards--the Mama Brown had The '60s, the Papa Brown, the Vintage Years (1920s-1950s), and the three young 'uns played with the Know-It-All set, even though it quickly became apparent that we didn't. Each of us took our turn. But every time the Tweedle Twirp's turn comes up, she complains that it's too hard to concentrate with "Heartbreak Hotel" in the background. So instead of doing the logical thing and turning off the music, which would then have forced me into humming the "Jeopardy" tune every time someone took too long to answer, I had to get up to pause the C.D. for Tweeds before she rolled the dice. When her turn was over, I would get back up and turn the music back on. Who knew she was such a sensitive child? And no, the lack of music during her turn didn't help her win.

I'm sure she's going to protest this, saying I've used creative license or exaggerated the whole thing. Which is fine. She just lies is all. (No, you may not correct my grammar on that sentence. It was intentional. For effect. Ah, hell, these fine points are lost on you people anyway.)