I am got back from France on Sunday last week, but I essentially turned around and went right back to the airport and headed for the Paris of the Midwest, Detroit, Michigan for another funeral. As I usually do while on the road, I revisit a Sundays are for Sebastian. This one comes from seven years ago when Seba was six.
Sebastian is my six-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.
Here is another gem from a couple of years ago at this time when Sebastian was four years old.
Sebastian: “I want to go to Hershey Park.”
His mother: “What is Hershey Park?” (She knows it is an amusement park.)
Seba: “It’s where they keep all the candy and you get to eat as much as you want.”
His mother: “Well that’s not entirely true.”
Seba: “Do they have candy?”
His mother: “Well, yes….”
Seba: “Then what’s the problem?”
the drunken cyclist 