Troubling news out of the Marbury [Clark] estate: It seems our little apprentice of all things diabolical may be vacillating in his resolution to canker completely his everliving soul and to drag his parents down Dante's lovely slip & slide with him.
A few days ago, as a sort of pledge of solidarity in the battle to prevent each other from being turned to the dark side, my wife and I shared a long and loving embrace. Unsettlingly, our little Beelzebaby toddled over, wrapped his arms around the both of us, and exclaimed "We a team!"
Heartwarming, I'm sure...but not really.
The problem is that we don't know if the burning in the breast that we felt was due to a charming and picaresque feeling of shared affection and righteous familial unity, or whether it resulted from a kind of resonance, a sympathetic vibration, of those of his own with the devilish seeds the 2-year-old pernicious proselyte has already succeeded in planting in our hearts.
To which "team" did he refer...?
It seems he may have mastered the "reverse psychology attack" - pretty Napoleonic for a 2-year-old field general engaged in the battle for his parents' souls. Or perhaps he really has relented and begun to listen to the better angels in his head?
Either way, Emily and I are resolved to remain on our guard, and remember the warning "woe to them that are at ease in Zion"...
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