On the way to VA, we stopped at a gas station in PA. As the pump did its thing, the hubby began to wash the windows.
Son #2: Hey, look at that guy cleaning our windshield. We should bring him to the wedding with us.
Son #1: That's not just some guy . . . that's our driver.
Not sure at what age they began riffing off one another but, at ages six and eight, it's definitely taken a turn for the professional. Maybe it's due to the fact that they watched a million episodes of The Simpsons on the way down along with Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
As a result, there was a lot of galloping during the wedding reception and myriad "what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?" questions.
Sure beats the Teletubbies years.
1 comment:
I'm sure their parent's collective wit has -nothing- to do with it.
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