It Must Be the Hair ...

I've found, upon occasion, when the girls are getting crazy in the car, the radio applied at sufficiently loud volume tends to smooth things over — especially 105.9 The Edge or Jack-FM.

This morning, on the way to Quinn's school, one of the stations was playing Tom Petty's "You Got Lucky". Quinn asked who the singer was, I said "Tom Petty."

Celeste started riffing on his name: "Tom Puppy," "Tom Perry," "Tom Reddy," ...

Quinn then piped up, "Oh, I thought it was Jesus."

I asked why she thought that, and she replied, "Because he's singing with a strong voice."

Celeste then starting talking about "Tom Spaghetti."

The Hidden Dangers of Folding Laundry

And, once again, I'm kicking myself for not having a video camera on these kids 24/7 so that at least some college funding could be secured from America's Funniest Home Videos.



Yes. Despite the smile, that is an icepack on Quinlan's forehead. But that's getting a few minutes ahead of the story.

Celeste and Quinn were running around, avoiding cleaning things up, while Evelin put together their dinners (the girls were getting a different meal than us because the borinqueño dish I was making was started way too late to be part of their dinner). While things were cooking, I was folding some laundry. As I started folding a sheet, Quinn ran by and through it, like a bull chasing a matador's capote.

Of course, this was great fun and Quinn made several more passes before Celeste realized the fun and started running through, too. All was going well until the girls ended up on opposite sides of the sheet/capote ... and tried to run though it simultaneously ... conking heads quite spectacularly. I did my best to stifle a laugh as I consoled my two sobbing girls (I know, father of the year) with growing knots on their foreheads.