Weekend Homework

Two brothers sit at the dining room table "working on homework". A notebook lies open before one and a laptop is open before the other.

"Did you know that I love dark chocolate? I mean, I really, really love dark chocolate."
"Why don't you marry it?"

A loud, squeaky sound of tools on wood comes from the other room. Their dad has closed the door to start a building project in his home office.

"That sounded like a giant fart," followed by fart sounds he's making with his mouth.
"Dad, take it easy on the beans."
"I'll be sharing that with dad, you know."
"Yeah. It was meant for him."
Silence. One reaches for a ruler to slide it back and forth on the table.

"It's 2:20."
"No, it's 2:21."
"It's 2:20."
"Seriously, it's 2:21."
"Look at the phone. It's 2:20."
"Too bad Verizon's pretty dumb, too."

Tap, tap on the notebook.
 "Uh oh. I drew 12 panels, and I only need 8."
"That's a tragedy."
"I know. How will I survive?"

More silence. One drinks water from a glass.
The other checks phone for texts.
One looks out the window. He rubs forehead with his hands and places head down on paper.

I decide to intervene, "So are you thinking of starting that comic strip?"
He laughs. "Five more minutes."
His brother chimes in, "You're crazy. I just want to point that out."
"No, you're crazy."

One picks up the camera, approaching me at my laptop saying, "Get ready for a huge picture of your nose." Beep, beep, click. Giggling, "Hee hee hee hee." He runs from the room.

The pencil hasn't touched his notebook since those panels. The keyboard remains untouched. More proof that Sunday should just be a day of rest.