The other day I was reading on the couch and my five-year-old came to me and said, "Dad, will you fly me to South Dakota and leave me there?" I was more than a little astonished. I didn't know he knew South Dakota existed. I asked him why and he said he didn't want to be here anymore. I guess he and his mother had a squabble about breakfast. He wanted hash browns, or something, and she didn't want to make them. Whatever the reason, he was all set to go to South Dakota, so I told him to get ready. Fortunately, a few minutes later he told me he had changed his mind, which is good because I wasn't sure where we were going to get the money for a plane ticket and I didn't want to drive.
First Words
A couple of weeks ago, Princess Rufflebutt, now a month and a half old, said her first word. We were in bed in the wee hours of the morning, my wife and I awake because the princess was awake, and we heard, loud and forceful, the word "Gong!" We assume that that will be her preferred method of alerting us to her various needs...until we get her an actual gong that she can ring, of course.
It doesn't end there. This morning she called me a goof. Well, that's how my wife interprets it. To me it sounded more like "goff" or "golf." But when it comes to calling me names, my wife is the authority. So I'll have to trust her.
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