Sunday, September 25


We rocked, we romped.

Yesterday we hit the final Rock n' Romp of the year.

It was nice to get sweet compliments from most folks there. Lots of mouths agog, some commenting on their good-nature, some asking about daily life. It was nice to talk shop with other parents and see other babies and children with really awsome names. (Wyatt, Fergus, Ruby.) The Tombs opened up, so we got to see Uncle Stevie and Uncle Don rock the toddler set with a heavy sound.

Now, I have to admit it; deep down I'm a tattle-tale. It's true. When I was a kid, if you were doing something I thought was bad, mean, or just not kosher, most likely I ratted you out. Go ahead and call me a fag, but, believe me, once the dust settles, if I don't protect me and mine, I'm gonna catch some heat when you get yours. Trust me. I will throw you under the bus if I'm in the line of fire.

So, now I have to tattle on Zelda. She was about four and made herself right at home on our blanket. No questions asked, or nothin'. All of a sudden, we had a fourth child to manage. By the time I wondered aloud who she belonged to, she practically leapt on Emmett, nearly hit him with a marocca and let out a sneeze. (She also helped herself to some other kid's snacks.) Finally, her daddy called out for her and she left as soon as she came in.

So, Zelda, if you're out there. Shame on you. You should know better. We probably would have let you see the baby and make friends if you acted nicely.

And if Zelda's parents are out there, buy a parenting book or somethin', willya? Me and my crew got three to take care of. I have no time to manage your kid, too.

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