The Mad House

I am going to warn you. This is going to be a very odd blog post.
I have not slept in over 36 hours.
And so, my night begins:
I was in the family room at about 11:30 at night. Steve is sleeping on the couch, since the air conditioning doesn't work upstairs. Nobody is asleep yet. My mom is in here with us. She leaves and goes to bed, and Steve gets tired of Criminal Minds somewhere around 3 AM. My mother came out at 2:30 and told me to go to bed. Did I listen?
No.
At six AM, Steve wakes up. Steve grinds his teeth and snores- but the grinding is the worst. It sounds squeaky, and wierd.
My mom wakes up five minutes later, yelling at me because I didn't sleep, and I'm perched in the same chair she left me in last night, still holding my laptop and sipping caffiene free diet coke.
Then Steve asks her to make pancakes.
And it all goes downhill from there.
She makes pancakes, all right. Six for Steve, Three for me, and Four for herself. Steve ate all of his, though I don't know how. I ate one and a half, and gave the rest to the dogs. My mom at three of hers. She's yelling the whole time about how grumpy I am, and how I'm going to have to wash windows later. I've been laughing since she woke up.
You see, when I'm sleep deprived, I think everything's hilarious. Then I'm really happy. Then I get really angry, and then I get really sad. So I'll laugh at your jokes, compliment you, punch you, and then apologize. The stages can last between five seconds and five hours, but it ALWAYS goes in that order. And somewhere in there, usually after the angry stage and before the sad/guilty stage, I get really affectionate. And so I hug people.
Anyway.
We're all called into my moms room, after much back-and-forthing to get her things. We decided to sell Steve's pictures for bread. Then he went back into the family room, my mom cried, and then yelled at me for laughing. Then I did the crab dance, which is hilarious when you see it. You hold your pointer finger and your thumb together, curl all of your other fingers, and like... if they were mouths, you'd be opening and closing them. Rapidly. Like crabs click their pincers, or whatever they have. Sleep. Deprived.
Then you stand with your shins parallel to eachother, butt on the same level as your knees, like a squat, but spread like a crabs legs. And you move slowly across the room but with rapid movements while clicking your claws. And that is the crab dance.
My mother doesn't laugh, and the crab dance ALWAYS makes her laugh. So Steve comes in and does it, slips, almost dies, and makes my mother laugh so hard she chokes. Then Steve decides to take a bath, my mother calls him a stripper, I try to rhyme and fail horribly [I was attempting to rap], and my dog licks my other dogs eye. Then I leave the room and type my blog.
I have not stopped laughing the entire hour and fifteen minutes. Now and then I giggle, but pretty much.
Oh, and we didn't WANT the pancakes. It was a joke, and we were force fed pancakes.

So, my morning has been pretty interesting. I'll count this as last night's blog post, since I'm sure there'll be more mayhem to come.
By the way, my brother and father are in Atlanta. So we're here alone.
Oh my.