Everybody Wants Some

Driving home from swimming off my brother-in-law's boat on Sunday, the boys and I had the following, painstaking conversation filled with the comic delivery of a six-year-old.

Me: Hey, you guys like this band. Do you know this song?

Son #1: No. Who is it?

Me: Guess.

Son #2: Poison? (No.)

Son #2: Motley Crew? (No.)

Son #2: Guns n' Roses? (No.)

Son #2: Poison? (No.) (Son #1: You just said that.)

Son #2: Motley Crew? (No.) (Son #1: You just said that, too.)

Son #2: Guns n' Roses? (No.) (We're laughing now.)

Son #1: Cheap Trick.

Me: No, but closer.

Son #2: Cheap Dick?

Me: Stop it with the dick jokes.

Son #1: Scorpions?

Me: I'll give you a hint -- it starts with the letter V.

Son #2: Vorpions?

Son #1: Van Halen!

Son #2: You mean Bad Halen.

Picky, picky. And although I'm not a huge rock n' roller, I think that song is great, no?