Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Wardrobe Malfunction

I was sitting on the pot this morning watching the kids brush their teeth...hmm. Wait a second--maybe a bit of backstory on that. I was in their bathroom, and had my clothes on, and was sitting on the toilet only because I needed a place to sit and converse with them. It's too crowded for a recliner, so I have to take what's available.

ANYway, as I was sitting there watching Cat shove her hand back and forth into her mouthhole, Jonathan came in to comb his hair. For a little boy who seems to have such a well-developed sense of what to wear, sometimes he just astounds me with his choice of clothing. This morning, he had on a blue tee shirt, with a light olive green sleeveless tee shirt over it, and a pair of big cargo pants in dark olive green. Yikes.

And that's not all.

He turned around, and I said with measured authority, "Son?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Son, you know you can't go to school in that."

Catherine, still brushing, sensed an impending meltdown. Boy's little face became all sad and droopy, and he slumped his shoulders, and whimpered, "AWwww." He was so pitiful.

"Son, you just can't go like that. What would Ms. Nelson say if you walked in with your pants all unzipped like that!?"

There was a split-second there where he didn't quite catch on, and then got it and with a sheepish grin, closed the barn door. He thought it was pretty humorous, and even when Cat and I both started chuckling, he joined in, too.

Good kid.

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