I’ve got Big A, my favorite grownup in the whole world, waiting for me in the living room with a DVD of Bram Stoker’s Dracula (which was, so long ago, my first sneak-peek at a real grownup movie. About love. With sex! And I’m not talking about the soft-focus succubi group sex--preverts!).
So I’m, unfairly as it turns out, trying to edit Li’l A’s bedtime talkfest a li‘l bit.
In the middle of one particularly long-winded story--
Me (diffidently): Ummm, does this story have a point?
Li’l A (indignantly): Yes!
Me (hopefully): Then can we get to the point?
Li’l A (blissfully): But I want to tell the story first!
Sorry, kiddo; my bad.
____
ceremony (and the start of summer)
I guess I'm still not American enough. Why don't they hold graduation in their own auditorium, I wondered. The high school auditoriu...
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