We went to Kari’s sister Amy’s house today, for some post-Thanksgiving pie, etc. And she told a brief tale:
One of her kids (Joey, age 5??) apparently had been complaining about his life. (You know — as kids are wont to do…) And he said something like, “You don’t know what it’s like. You had it easy when you were growing up.” (Which I thought was pretty funny in itself…)
So Amy explained that, no, actually, she had an alcoholic father, who rarely talked to them, etc.
He seemed to understand…
Well, after they talked, Joe’s dad Clark called, and Joey said, “I’m sorry Dad … mom told me about your family, and I’m sorry. She told me about her dad too … you know, how he drank too much root beer and it changed his body so he couldn’t even talk anymore.”
Then Joey hands her the phone, and Clark’s first words are: “What in the hell is going on there?”
You can’t make this stuff up.
Hope our kid is half as interesting as theirs are……
(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn’t I.)