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I just gotta be me.

A little background: I have a wife (Melissa) and kid (Jake)...he's 3 and talks very well for his age (he should, he practices constantly). I know that anyone with kids that reads this will be able to relate when I say that kids do indeed say the darnedest things. I have no clue where he gets his material, but 1) it ain't from me, I swear, 2) it ain't from Mel, because although she's a performer and can also be quite witty, I don't think she's a comic genius (she'll admit to that), and 3) it probably isn't from daycare (or at least not from an adult) because most of them don't speak fluent English and the ones who do aren't least not when I'm around. So, lets just say he pulls stuff out of his butt.

This evening, Mel and I are folding laundry in our family room, and Jake running hot laps while listening to some music that my wife's piano can produce (recorded). He does this from time to time (listens to the classical crap of the piano, not the hot laps thing...that, he does all the time) and it's a hoot. He can, of course, start the music by himself and devotes the rest of his time to burning energy (of which he has an endless supply). If only I could power my car with him, I could really stand to save the $3.39/gallon they make us shell out here in Western Washington. But I digress...we'll save that for another blog entry. At any rate, most of the laundry is Mel's, so there are a few things in there that we wouldn't want the neighbors to see, and Jake decides to take a break from burning up our carpet to come over and add his usual 2 cents worth. Pointing at a frilly shirt, he says (I swear I am not making up any of this) "Mommy, some day, when I get big, I'm going to wear one of these and spin around like a girl."

Mel is bent over from laughing so hard, and admittedly, it's hard for me to keep a straight face too. However, on the inside, I'm crying and reaching in the cupboard for the Homocil (Google that - it's an SNL skit). More on the way, to be sure.


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