We’re watching fireworks from a Fallsview hotel overlooking Niagara Falls and an impressive one shoots off across the night sky. Hazel – it looks like fairy dust! Me – it looks a ghost’s hand reaching out to grab you . . . Sam – it looks like throw up. Hmmm. …
So I’ve been listening to the soundtrack of the Mel Brooks musical Young Frankenstein a lot lately and giggling gleefully to the song Please don’t touch me which has some potty-mouthed lyrics when my daughter pipes up from the back seat: Daddy – what are tits? This of course, just …
We’re shopping for party items for Sam’s upcoming birthday and he comes across some Senators themed glasses in three sizes:
“These are for moms and dads” pointing to the mugs.
“These are for kids” pointing to the tumblers.
“These are for taste testing” . . . pointing to the shot glasses.
Oh my.
Our friend Sheridan gave us the book Z is for Zamboni as a Christmas present. Hazel is now a big fan of the Zamboni, Bobby Hull and Orr, the referee and especially the penalty box when we reach the letter T and point out that breaking the rules results in someone sitting in the timeout box . . .
