I went to visit my friend Peppar in Miami a couple of weeks ago, and she took a picture of me and her son, Greg. Peppar loves my name (and me) so much, she named her son after me! I wish I had a daughter so I could name her Pep. That name might be too much pressure on the poor grrl, though - she would probably be vaguely depressed all her life, like her papa. Plus, on the schoolyard, she would probably be taunted. "Hey, Pep! What's your last name - Tobismol?"
When I was a kid, there was a girl who waited with us at the bus stop. Her name was Jessica, but everyone called her the "Booger Queen" because once someone said they caught her picking her nose. Really, I doubt they actually saw this, because what little girl would pick her nose in public at that tender age? Other kids - and their inherent danger - were everywhere, lurking and spying about. Anyway, once I screamed at the other kids, telling them to stop calling her the "Booger Queen." "Stop!" I screamed. "Stop, stop, stop!" Henceforth, of course, I was the "Booger King."
I really wish I had been in a better mood when I was in Miami. I don't think I was very good company for Peppar. (She knew the risks). I will meet her in Orlando some day, and she and I and Greg will get on a Disney World ride and probably instantly be thrown from it at its apex and dashed to bits on the cement below. (We knew the risks).
In this photo, Greg and I are both wearing our caps. His is a smart number, emblazoned with a Yankees symbol. Mine is camo.
When I was a kid, there was a girl who waited with us at the bus stop. Her name was Jessica, but everyone called her the "Booger Queen" because once someone said they caught her picking her nose. Really, I doubt they actually saw this, because what little girl would pick her nose in public at that tender age? Other kids - and their inherent danger - were everywhere, lurking and spying about. Anyway, once I screamed at the other kids, telling them to stop calling her the "Booger Queen." "Stop!" I screamed. "Stop, stop, stop!" Henceforth, of course, I was the "Booger King."
I really wish I had been in a better mood when I was in Miami. I don't think I was very good company for Peppar. (She knew the risks). I will meet her in Orlando some day, and she and I and Greg will get on a Disney World ride and probably instantly be thrown from it at its apex and dashed to bits on the cement below. (We knew the risks).
In this photo, Greg and I are both wearing our caps. His is a smart number, emblazoned with a Yankees symbol. Mine is camo.
3 comments:
Greg pointed at his pic and said, "baby,baby"
i hate that u can't edit
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