Kicking the Bucket

Like everyone else in America, I also did the Bucket Challenge. Though, I may not have read the instructions correctly.

Finger-Licking Good!

Finger-Licking Good!

Not to get too preachy, but ALS is a terrible condition that has visited my family. And, if you have to dump a bucket of chicken on your head to help find a cure, then do it. And, I’ll even bring the mashed potatoes and gravy.

Wake Up, Little Susie

So, my magical playlist of Classic Rock songs that the girls should know comes on the blue-toothified radio. While we are tooling down the freeway at 65mph. (I know! 65! In LA! A great day indeed.)

“Wake Up, Little Susie.” Everly Brothers.

Me: Oh, Girls, this is a Great song. You need to know this song.

Isabella (she’s 7): Is this a Great song, or just a Good song?

Me: Well, Honey. I don’t know that I need to hear this song everyday, but it is a very important song.

Iz: But, is it a Great song, or an Important song?

Me: Honey, you are splitting hairs.

Iz: I don’t know what that means. I’m 7.

Me: Sometimes a Great song is an Important song. And, sometimes an Important song is a Great song.

Iz: Then, is this a Great song or an Important song?

Me: Sweetie, without this song, we would have no Lennon-McCartney, Simon-Garfunkle, Bowie-Mercury. Or whenever any two people sing together.

Iz: So, it’s an Important song.

Me: Yes, and it’s Great!

Iz: Wait, go back.


Julianna (she’s 10, calling from a distant room): Daaaddyyy… How do you spell “Furnace? Or the video game monster will kill me!”

Me: Monster?

Isabella (7): Daddy, can I tell her? I know how to spell it!

Me: Really, you do? I don’t think so…

Iz: F-U..

Me: Ok, I guess I had that coming. How old are you?

Iz: 7. No, Daddy… F-u-n… No, wait.

Me: Oh, this will be Fun.

Iz: Daddy! Stop! Furcsace. No. Funscaser. Wait. Furcnsae.

Me (shouting Letters of encouragement: Furn…)

Iz: Fcnrseae.

J: Quick! I need to know!

Wha-Wha…. You’ve been eaten.

J: Daddy, this is all your fault.

Iz: Yeah, Daddy! Your fault.

Me: You never asked me how to spell “fir-ness,” the quality of a fir tree.