Electricity is what

I drink beer, I sit in the turnet.
The wife insists, such as reading a fairy tale to the eldest son (she pumps them from the inette to the notebook), I open the first dock that got caught and read with the expression, it turned out to be a culinary recipe of some kind... the wife pulls up the hanging socks from the younger son and jokingly knocks me on the naked back...
It turns out that the younger son did not run out of electricity...
The back of daddy in the shit, curtains in the shit, carpet in the shit.

BFG