Saturday, February 11, 2012


When George was just a little fellow, he came in from the backyard one day proclaiming, "I have a.......... sig-a-ret." What?  Mind begins to race!  

The internal dialogue is as follows, and I quote, "You are like 18 months old and you have a CIGARETTE! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!  Are Boomhauer and Hank Hill in the alley giving them out to the neighborhood kids?  Did you have a beer too?  Or a whiskey?  Where does it stop?  Get a hold of yourself, woman.  He is NOT drinking Jack Daniels and smoking in the sandbox.......Now have rational thoughts. Did he find a cigarette and eat it?  Just the butt or all the tobacco too?  Will I need to call poison control or go to the ER?  Surely at 18 months, he doesn't have the fine motor skills to light up.  But what if.........?  No smell.  No debris in the mouth, but something is wrong."  End of internal dialogue.

So I asked over and over, you have a WHAT?  My kids tended to be clear speakers, so I don't doubt their actual words too much.  The interrogation continued and it turned out that a sig-a-ret is a SECRET!   And the secret was a pants load of sand.  Wheeeeeew.  This I could deal with.  I wasn't ready to have that conversation.  
But, the word stuck.  And now, I have a sig-a-ret!   Look at all that fun delicious fabric.  It is going to become something great, but I cannot tell you or show you yet.  Even though it is gonna be amazing, I just cannot tell you.  Sorry.  But I can have a little fun with you, so with all the enthusiasm of a 4 year old, skip around and sing with me!

"I have a sig-a-ret!
                 I have a sig-a-ret.
                             I have a sig-a-ret.
                                           La la la la la la!"  



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