You may recall the recent discussion Lola and I had about resting a cup of pee on one's legs.
"Peeeeee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!"
Man, that was funny.
It seems a lot of things are funny lately.
Junior High class schedule arrived, and guess what Lola's taking!
"Pre Alge-BRA-hahahahahahaha!!!"
Concert Bras
Bras? Not brass? It seems they only get twelve (coincidence?) spaces to enter the name of the course. Someone in the office was either clueless, or twelve. So the kids take "bras." Oddly enough, there aren't many girls in that class.
"Concert bra-hahahahahahahahahahas!!!"
Stops to catch breath . . .
She was still going on about this at bedtime, and daltonboy was tired and really wanting to say goodnight for the last time. Finally, I pushed her out the door and sent her laughing hysterically to her room.
Daltonboy: Man!!
Me: She's twelve.
Daltonboy: Yeah. It's obvious.
I wanted him to say, "She's good at it," sort of like that Victoria says in "Sleepless in Seattle," but I guess he hasn't watched that movie enough. Something we shall have to remedy. But right now, I have to go rest a cup of pee on my legs. I just can't get enough of that.
3 comments:
Now I want a twelve-year-old. Do you know any way for me to do that?
Depending on the day, you could probably drive by my house and pick one up, free of charge. I'll even throw in an entire bedroom set, clothing, and accessories. Call first. I probably won't be willing to part with it most days.
DG, if one were to ask, what would you consider the most essential and significant chick flicks with which a husband should be conversant?
Also, Lola would have enjoyed a recent town meeting, where a PowerPoint presentation advised us that commercial properties are "assed" at 100% of value, along with second homes. (I think I know what they meant, given than primary residences are *assessed* at 55% of their value for tax purposes, but that hardly matters.)
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