I am once again on the road this week, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, visiting my family for a few days with the boys. As I normally do, I revisit one of my favorite editions of Sundays Are For Sebastian.
Today’s flashback comes from 2016 when Sebastian was eight years old….
Sebastian is my eight-year-old and he says some of the funniest things–we have no idea where he gets his material since his mother and I are rather boring, serious people.
A few months ago, I succumbed to the boys’ wishes to have dinner out by the pool in our apartment complex.
During dinner, Sebastian complained of being very uncomfortable but his mother and I dismissed it as he often tries to avoid any food that resembles a vegetable.
It turns out that he was being savagely attacked by mosquitoes, while the rest of us escaped virtually unscathed.
The following day, on the way to school….
Sebastian: “Daddy, why did I get so many mosquito bites and you didn’t get any?”
Me: “Well, I am not exactly sure, but it definitely seems that the mosquitoes like you more.”
After a bit of reflection….
Seba: “Yeah, I guess so. I am very lovable.”
Sebastian is getting around to learn how to read. He picked up a beginning reader (the kind with pictures) and sounded out a word (loud enough for us to hear):
“Che.
Ick.
Cun.
Che. Ick. Cun. CHICKEN!”
Thinking that this was a rather difficult word for a beginning reader, and wanting to encourage more self-motivation, I was effusive with the praise and he ate it up.
Later I looked at the book, there was a picture of a landfowl and the caption:
“Rooster.”
the drunken cyclist 