I am not on the road this week, since, well, you know, but nonetheless, I decided to re-blog a Sundays for Sebastian. Today’s comes from a little over three years ago when Sebastian was nine.
Sebastian is my nine-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.
I have mentioned before that one of our (OK, my) favorite games to play with the boys is “Name the Artist” as we are driving, listening to the radio. As it so happens, we mostly listen to music that I am particularly familiar with since, well, I control the radio.
The other day, after flipping through a few channels, I landed on a classic from the early ‘80s by a titan in American music. Neither boy had any clue who it was, so as I often do, I offered up a few subtle clues.
Me: “This is someone you should certainly know. He’s from New Jersey.”
Nathan: “Dad, sssshhhh! I am trying to listen!”
Me: “Hey, no need to boss me around….”
Silence.
Me: “That was a clue you knuckleheads!”
Nathan: “What did you say again?”
Me: “I said: ‘No need to BOSS me around.”
Nathan: “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said. No help here.”
Seba: “Is it ‘Bossy Pants’?”
I have a lot of work ahead of me.
the drunken cyclist 