"Yes, and..." my mother trailed off for a moment, her face reflecting her inner turmoil. "And your father and I have been talking today...and...we think it's best if your father and you both get bitten by me tonight."
She said it with such matter-of-factness that I almost didn't realize exactly what she'd said at first.
"Wait...what???" I asked, noticing a smirk on Kyra's face.
"It's just easier this way, son," my father said, using his best fatherly voice, somehow reminiscent of Ward Cleaver or a million other tv dads as they dispensed advice. "You know, wolf packs are a lot like human families. They play together, eat together, and protect each other."
"I'm not retarded, Dad, I know about wolf behavior. I just don't know that you're thinking clearly right now," I protested.
"What would you have me do?" he snapped, a slight quiver in his voice. "What would you have me DO!? Shoot your mother? Is that what you want? You think I should shoot your mother, the woman I love, the woman who gave birth to you?"
"No dad, it's just..." I sighed, rubbing my temples, "There's ways around all this, there's measures that can be taken, ones that keep us AND her safe."
"Like what?" he asked.
"Well," I suggested, "We can lock her up in the basement before moonrise, chain her up so she can't get out...ummm...."
"Lock her up?" scoffed Kyra, "Like some sort of an animal?"
"We're NOT locking her up!" my father declared.
"Look!" I complained, "I don't really care what you guys do, but I'm not okay with being bitten by mom!" I said, having reached the end of my rope.