A Punk Rocker Yeah

“Who’s at the door?” I ask the toddler.

“Oh, just London calling” he replies.

Smash

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“All my friends are metal heads!”

Smash

“Everything okay, toddler?”

“I’m worried about the impact of global warming on my descendants!”

Smash

“What are you doing there, buddy?”

“Every thing is against me!”

Smash

“Making a movie?”

“Yep, have to make it real.  No FX.”

Smash

“What’s going on with the guitar?”

“Want to see what this would look like if it was stepped on by an elephant named Nelly?”

Smash

“What do you call that song?”

“Really, dad, there’s no use for a name.”

Smash

“Don’t swing that!”

“How else do you get rid of a screeching weasel?”

Smash

“What sort of mood are you in today?”

“I’m feeling like a vandal!”

Smash

Most of the time, the actions of a toddler make no sense.  Like when an already fragile guitar is used as a stepping stool to watch a squirrel through a window.  I spend a lot of time rationalizing the thought that goes into the toddler decision making process, but there really is no reason.  There is only the goal, anything in the path to that goal is fodder.

 

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