I am in Columbus, Ohio this weekend waking up to gloomy skies but much happier than the last time I visited the midwestern capitol. As I do whilst on the road, I revisit one of the over 300 (!) Sundays Are For Sebastian, which I started chronicling about a decade ago. This one comes from a handful of 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.
Seba: “Hey mom, is ‘iddle’ a word?”
My wife: “Huh? What do you mean?”
Seba: “‘Iddle.’ Is it a word? Like, ‘Iddle take me forever to clean my room.’”
the drunken cyclist 