Scribblings From The Public Restroom Stalls Of The Gods

I made myself a well-decent salad this morning. Grated my own cheese and everything. I didn’t have much dressing – it turns out we were out of ranch dressing – but I managed to find a couple of little packets of Chick-Fil-A ranch sauce and dumped them in there. Probably added a thousand calories that way, but hey, it was tasty. Plenty of croutons too. Always plenty of croutons, or you’re just doin’ it wrong. When Little E heard the crunch, he was suddenly much more interested.

E: Dad, is that graham crackers?
ME: No, it’s croutons in my salad. They’re made of bread. You want one?
E: Okay.

[crunch crunch + pause]

E: It’s not like pizza.
ME: No, most people don’t put pizza stuff in their salad. You want another bite with green leafy stuff and some cheese? It’s good.
E: Does it taste like pizza?
ME: No.
E: I just want pizza.

I have to admire his honesty and his ability to start from the general and hang a sharp right turn toward the specific. He just wants pizza. For breakfast.

I suppose it makes as much sense as salad for breakfast, big guy.… Read more

We watched Finding Nemo tonight and then it was bathtime. While I was drawing the bath:

E: Dad, you’re the daddy fish. I’m the little fish.

I shouldn’t really read too much into that, but you know what? He’s exactly right. … Read more

E: Dad, what’s that?
ME: That’s called a waveform.
E: A waveform?
ME: It shows you what sound looks like. See, the more lines there are and the bigger lines there are, the more sound there is.
E: That’s what sound looks like?

[pause]

E: Dad, what does sound taste like?
ME: Chicken.… Read more