So, I have a confession.

I am an overtalker.  

When I get angry at my two sons, I don’t just lecture them. I filibuster. I make my point, then make it again. And oh, have you heard me make my point in this other creative manner? No? Well. Here I go then. Several minutes in, I can actually see them mute-button me with their eyes. But that doesn’t stop me, Filibustering McGee. I will shout until my words solidify like cement in their brains, my sage advice ringing in their ears for all eternity, forever protecting them against future poor decisions involving crystal meth.