Sam walked in this weekend after diner with Oreo crumbs all over his face. He said “Dad, what am I?” and puckered.

“I have no idea.”

“A cat’s butt!” He said, making little farting noises.

Ah . . . youth.

——————-

Eeep. Just realized that I’m sitting here posting this in a ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ wifebeater t-shirt.

Slightly disappointed that I’m not nearly as hot as I thought I was. Tony Randall could kick my ass.

Sigh.

Going off to put a sweater on, for which you should all thank me.