Making short stories long

In case NE1 wondered what happed next @ the l8est in Mike-congratul8ing parties, Mike sez this:

April,

Formerly little sis. Getting back to my party. I should mention there was a point in the party where my friends did ask for their free copies of my book, which I promised them, and Deanna was forced to head up the stairs to get them from wherever it was that she hid them. When she came back she reported that my children were on the stairs and my daughter was definitely acting like she was my daughter and not her daughter.

To make a short story long, she went up the stairs and spotted my two kids lying on the landing at the top of the stairs looking in through the narrow door opening which led to the room where our party was being held. She said, “Hey, what are you two doing up?” This was a rhetorical question, since Deanna informed me she really was not interested in what they were doing up. My daughter did not realize the question was rhetorical and answered, “We wanted to see what was going on.” I think it was at this point my lovely wife realized either she had not actually told our children why people were coming to our house, or she did tell them and she forgot about their incredibly short attention span.

She grabbed each of them by the nape of their neck and said, “Some friends are here to congratulate your dad on his book. Come on…it’s bedtime.” According to my wife, my son was too fascinated by the fact he could cast two individual, unconnected shadows with both his feet to respond. In contrast, my daughter cast no shadow at all, and complained, “Awww!” Deanna said it was about this point she was wondering if our daughter was actually a vampire or some other non shadow-casting member of the undead.

My daughter did nothing to alleviate this suspicion, because she launched into the type of rejoinder a vampire child might pose, “Why do we always hafta go to bed? Why can’t we stay up as late as you do?” My wife reported that my son put his finger to his mouth as some sort of secret vampire signal to my daughter. So, Deanna responded, “Meredith, I am not going to argue with you tonight.” Vampires, you see, are much more powerful at night.

According to my wife, my daughter got a strange look on her face, which was not so much vampiric as “eyes too close together” –ic. Frankly, I don’t know which one is more frightening.

My daughter came back with “OK….We can argue in the morning.” Well, formerly little sis, that kind of argumentative style is pure Patterson. Make a pun about the time of day. My daughter was clearly not a soul-sucking vampire, unless you consider all Pattersons to be soul-sucking vampires. My wife simply concluded she was really my daughter. And then at that moment, she noticed my son had a weird sort of satisfied grin on his face, which could only mean one thing---time for a diaper change. I hope this doesn’t mean that hearing a good pun, causes him to lose control of his bowels. That could be very bad in our family.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Ooh, mayB I'll inform Mom an' Dad that punning makes Robin poop his pants! And that whoever it is who makes the pun is responsible 4 the diaper change and kid-cleanup. LOL, that would @ least cut back sum of the punnage!

Apes