Living with my children

I have decided that officially either I'm a bad parent or my children are quite nutty. Perhaps it is a combination of both!
Let me start with the sixteen year old son, delightfully intelligent but absolutely and without a doubt a fruitloop. He has decided to have a second childhood about three or four decades to early. His father and I mistakenly allowed him to come out with us the other afternoon and we stumbled upon an ant farm set up at the local Aldi outlet. OMG as my preteen daughter would say. There was then relentless nagging for the next week as the teenage child insisted that only an Antosphere would make his life complete. Now I will admit this ant adventure didnt' require batteries and there was no amount of electricity involved which seemed a plus but an ant farm - good grief. After convincing his doting grandmother that this ant extravaganza was essential to his wellbeing, we proceeded to lurch back to Aldi to pick up the said Antosphere. Now this is no mere piece of retangular plastic but rather a complete kit of little spheres which interconnect with plastic tubing, something I'm sure NASA is quite envious of and can't wait to use on its next planetary mission. So after setting up across half our back verandah, teenage child went in search of a group of ants who would like to volunteer to live inside his ant kingdom. With no ants waving feelers in his direction he resorted to the next best strategy digging up an ant mound and piling the ants with the use of tweezers in a plastic container to then be released into their new home. Over the last few days more ants have moved into the new abode and gradually seem to making the place a home. Teenage son has wasted many a moment watching his new pets scurrying from tube to tube. Yes, I will confess even I have sucumbed to sitting staring aimlessly into the Antosphere. I'm just not sure what we will do with the massive ant structure when we, I mean he, loses interest in it.
Leaving the teenager alone for a moment we move on to my second parental failure the preteen daughter, only 8 months out from being a dreaded teen. She has hit the holidays with a rather unfortunate addiction problem to musicals. It all began with Glee but has been extended to include several episodes of the old television series of Fame. She is relentless in her need to watch an episode and then just one more episode. She no longer talks but sings her way around the house and we can't just walk but rather must twirl, prance and spin our way from place to place. If I dare as I did today mention that perhaps she is an addict, I'm informed that really it is my fault after all I bought her the DVDs and I, the responsible parent, did let her watch them. Bummer she does have a point.
So it does appear to all come back to me even though I'm sure if I look hard enough at the gene pool on my husband's side of the family I could find someone else to blame.