Little N. has a best buddy, little Paulie. When they are together they typically break things, spill things, climb things and attempt to jump off of things. Behind their angelic little faces they are demonic agents of entropy. N. was invited to spend the night at Paulie's, and hysterical joy ensued; imagine the destruction that could be wrought in an entire evening.
Paulie has a nice mom that makes pancakes and allows them to trash the entire basement and even permits them to watch Sponge Bob. So what, you wonder, could Nick find to bitch about during this happy event?
Well, the sleeping arrangements, of course. He was half mad with worry that if they were to sleep too closely together, that sometime during the night, these two four year old boys might accidentally rub up against each other, bump uglies or something, then wake up Saturday morning humming show tunes and searching for nail polish. Oh, the horror.
He is still trying to cope with the fact that we have a family member who is gay, and absolutely convinced that if the young man in question would just try a woman, that an epiphany would occur. He is so convinced of this, that he has offered this sweet soul a thousand dollars if he would do it with a girl, just once.
He does not experince similar anxiety over H.'s sleeping arrengements with her little girlfriends. Hmmm.
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