Let’s start this by saying Adam is wrong. Screw top wines are never good and the Bordeaux did not improve after a day.
Now, let’s ask: Where did this boy of mine come from? I just had to tell him that two hours of reading was too long and he had to go to bed, but he was determined to continue studying the multiplication tables in some random book he found. Not my child.*
Shall we continue? My daughter has put a song in my head about a gooney bird. A mother gooney bird to be exact. With seven gooney birds. They can’t walk, they can’t talk. But they can flap their right arms. Like this. Â And I can’t freakin’ get it out of my head.
But I’ve gotten even. I’ve put Cee Lo Green’s song in my kids’ heads. And have forbidden them from singing it in public. Not an issue for my boy. But my girl will be suffering. She can’t stop the music. She’s like my mother that way. But I’ve scared her that if she says the grown-up word at school she’ll get in big trouble. I like to parent that way. With fear. And profanity. The latter you can also credit my mom. She can drop an f-bomb like Mel Gibson on a traffic stop.
Speaking of cursing like Braveheart, I’ll be doing just that while I go all Fight Club on the next person who asks me, “So, Pie is in kindergarten? What are you doing with all that free time?” I’ll tell you what I do with all that free time. I spend all that free time at the gym, bulking up, so I can wale on the next person who asks me that. Don’t let it be you.
And that’s the way it is: Tuesday, September 28, 2010. Good night.
*Speaking of my boy and of film, my boy entered a film contest and came in second, proving there is some shared DNA (remember me? I did go to film school. Once upon a time). Unfortunately, his real name is on it so I can’t link to it here, but if I know you, comment or e-mail and I’ll send you a link.
I think you need a better catch phrase than “And that’s the way it is:”
personally, i’m voting for “who fucking asked you anyway…”
Paul Harvey would have loved it