Evil, EVIL I tells ya!

The past two days have reminded me of the Treehouse of Horror III episode of The Simpsons, where Homer buys Bart a talking Krusty doll for his birthday. When Grampa Simpson sees the doll, the following plays out:

Abe:[shouting] That doll is *Evil*, I tells ya. Evil! Eeeeeeviillll!!!
Marge: Grandpa, you said that about all the presents.
Abe: [whines] I just want attention.

Cut to last night, when we were sitting watching Television with friends, when their son Sebastian rushes in. In his hands, he's holding the Matchbox toys "Haunted House" playset. He looks straight at me, calling my name, declaring:

Can you come and play with us out the back?
Why, what do you need me for?
We're playing the ghost game, and we need someone Evil to work it.

Even today, on Mother's Day, when we were driving back from the Gold Coast after a family day out I got accused. Ethan, just because I was mucking up when he was trying to play I Spy, suddenly declares:

If you don't stop being Evil, I'm going to flick you in the ear.

As if that's gonna work. You'll need a stake. MMMmmm Steak.....

Ciao for Now, Secretly Evil Angry Dad.