[porch light?]

The boys are giggling profusely in their bedroom as I clean up the kitchen. I notice that the scraps are overflowing.
Flashbackward to about two and a half hours ago: "Micah, take out the scraps please," I say from the kitchen. "Just a minute," he replies. "Micah! How do you ask?" "Can I please finish reading this?" Me: "..yes.. if you hurry."
Flashpresent. Giggling boys. Overflowing scraps. Me: "Micah, come here and take out the scraps!" He comes into the kitchen saying, "I *did* take out the scraps!" "No you didn't. They're overflowing." "Well, I don't remember not taking out the scraps!"
After scrambling around looking for coveralls (he was only wearing a pullup) and shoes, he's ready to depart. But there's a problem. His headlamp apparently has dead batteries, just like everything else in this house. =D He runs over to put it back and look for another one. "Micah? Why don't you use the porch light?" I say. "Porch light?" he repeats incredulously. I answer, "Mmhmm." Looking at me with 'that' look on his face, he says, "No."
Headlamps are apparently much more thrilling than porch lights.

And there he is, the little heartbreaker. Look at him.
Just look at him!

Shaina