A commercial came on TV earlier tonight. It was working hard to build a shrine around the M*A*S*H movie by droning on about Radar coming straight off broadway from playing Charlie Brown, and so & so who wrote the lyrics to the theme song, and how it was the first movie to use the 'F-word'... And Harrison turns to Amanda and says, "I think they mean 'Flushie' ".
Woohoo! That's mah boy.
Giselle and a friend of hers found a centipede under a rock in the front yard today. It seems that their description of the event has got Harrison spooked. We've been pretty fortunate that the kids haven't had much in the way of nightmares and general fear of the closet and under-the-bed monsters. But the centipede story had him hanging out with us tonight while we watched our stories. Up until the Flushie thing. Then it was like a great big song & dance number and the kids both ran off down the hall.
I had a dream last night where I was watching a narrow pyroclastic flow roll down the slope of a distant volcano. Then the perspective changed, and it turned into a little spatter cone volcano that had managed to emerge through the floor of the bedroom. I couldn't make sense out of the fact that nothing had caught fire, particularly when it made it's way up through the crawl space. It broke down into a discussion with the neighbors about whether volcanic activity was covered in the homeowner's insurance. Fresh volcanoes have to break ground somewhere I guess.
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