Oh, be careful little ears what you hear . . .
The other day, for some reason, I had Jonah and Sam in the car with me.
Ah, now I remember, my wife had taken the older two to go see the movie Zathura. Two thumbs down, by the way. Useless, if semi-mild, profanity throughout, and some parts were really scary. "Promise me we'll never buy this movie," said Stephen afterward. I did so promise. I also promise that, from now on, we'll either check the Focus on the Family website or see a movie ourselves before letting our kids see anything.
Jonah was not happy about not being able to see the movie (although in retrospect he would have been much worse off having gone; most of parenting is learning from your mistakes, which is why first kids are so messed up). I asked if he wanted Pizza for dinner; he said yes (after which Sam said "Yethhhhh") so off we went to Fellini's.
Having two cars is very nice. For about 18 months or so we only had one car. It worked okay, but it made some things much more difficult, so when my extremely generous brother-in-law offered us his car, we took it. Thanks Josh!
My wife had been in the car before me, so the radio was set to NPR. Not having the iPod with me, and wanting to engage in a little Schadenfreude, I left it on their evening news show. There were two stories about Africa (apparently they had discussed Bush's hitler-monkey attributes at the top of the hour). Jonah and Sam talked in the back, apparently oblivious.
There was a story about an election somewhere, and another story about how the evil CIA-Military Industrial Complex minions were spreading American horribleness by giving well pumps to poor, drought-ravaged villages. Ah, NPR.
At some point, one of the announcers said something along the lines of, "blah, blah, blah, in the state of Djibouti."
A full-voiced "HA!" erupted from the back seat. It was Jonah. "She said ja-booty! That's funny."
Pause. Wait 5 seconds. Sam, quietly: "ha. jabooty. dathh funny."
For the rest of the 15-minute drive to Fellini's, they alternated saying "jabooty."
Thankfully, they stopped once we arrived, or else the whole restaurant would have known that we were listening to NPR. My embarrassment would have been monumental. Instead, they amused themselves by hitting each other and not eating their pizza.
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