Today I got to chaperone a middle school dance. If you offered me the choice between being repeatedly clubbed in the head or chaperoning a middle school dance, I would be hard-pressed to choose (but the clubbing might have a slight edge). At least my tour of duty was only an hour long; but by the end of it, my head was pounding, and my eyes were sore from squinting through near-total darkness in the school gym (there were some laser-y kinds of things dancing around the ceiling, but they didn't provide much illumination to those of us below).
Spilly enjoyed some music today too. She attends a little music class on Fridays with her friend Robbie. Today was extra-special, apparently. She told her Daddy afterward, "There's a new boy in our class!"
"Oh?" said her Daddy. "What's his name?"
"Mr. Fantastic!"
Daddy was slightly taken aback. "What's his real name?" he asked.
Spilly glared at him. "Mister. Fan. Tas. Tic."
"Did you see Mr. Fantastic?" I asked Daddy later.
"I actually did, for a minute."
"And did he look fantastic?"
"Well--kind of," said Daddy, after thinking about it.
Sounds like Robbie, Spilly's current main squeeze, is going to have a run for his money.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment