All The Single Ladies

This is a quickie.  It is also a call for help.  Or at least sympathy.
Tonight (that would be Friday night, for anyone paying attention) my dad decided to surprise my stepmom by bumping up the movie she just keeps talking and talking (and talking and fucking talking) about so it's number one on the Netflix queue.  We settled in, a pizza for everyone (like, a pizza a piece I mean - my rant on obesity soon to follow), and pressed play.
Which means tonight (still Friday.  Friday night people) I am sitting here watching The Squeakquel.  With my parents.  As my stepmother dances along with the rodent rendition of All the Single Ladies. 
There is not enough beer in the world.



(dad's advice upon seeing my glassy-eyed expression and knowing an obnoxiously snarky comment was on its way?  "just go blog it out honey." i've said it before and i'll say it again: smart, smart daddy.)