Little m Long a

I’m not quite sure how to file this little gem.

Parenting fail?  Parenting success?  Oh dear Lord what have I done?  Another reason I should not be fully entrusted with the care and supervision of my children?  Or simply, a proud father moment?

I suppose you could find arguments for all of them.  It warmed my cockles whatever the case.  (And whatever cockles are.)

I mentioned Zia’s Poetry Slam earlier this week.  Well, as per the norm I attended with the raccoons in tow.  Zander and Zella were actually behaving pretty nicely for a change.  We were seated in the school commons area at a table.  Zander to my left and Zella across the table in front of us, her back to us and facing the stage where Zia and her classmates were doing their thing.

They clapped appropriately in the appropriate places and sat quietly in the places where it was appropriate to sit quietly.

About half way through one of the poems Zander leaned toward me and completely out of the blue whispered, “BLUKA!”

I’ll be damned if Zella didn’t immediately turn around and whinny!

BLUKA!!