What She Said

John and his friend were playing around in PhotoShop the other night and made this:

Pretty cool, eh?

When Joey was about 5, we were riding along in the car listening to the radio and he said “Mommy, play that song about the frog”.

“Song about the frog? What song about the frog?”

“You know, the frog song Mommy!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joey”.

“Yes you do, Mommy. It’s on the radio all the time”.

I tried to explain that I couldn’t control what the radio played and we’d just have to listen for it (since I had NO clue what the ‘frog song’ was).

As luck would have it, when we came out of the grocery store and started the car Joey said “That’s it, Mommy!! That’s the frog song!”

I listened closely to hear Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton singing “Islands in the Stream” and Joey singing along with them “I Live in the Stream”……..ah yes…..the FROG song!

On the way home from work and daycare, from the back seat, John (who was about 6) asked “Mommy, how do you spell “wooooosh?”

“Wooosh? I don’t know what you mean, John.”

“Yes you do, Mommy; you know ‘woooooosh’.”

“I’m sorry, John; I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that word. Can you put it in a sentence for me?”

“You know, Mom; ‘we WOOOOOOOSH you a merry Christmas’!”

Of course.

Joey was 4 and had a new friend at daycare who spoke Spanish. The language intrigued him and he’d jabber away trying to sound like his friend when, in fact, it sounded more like speaking in tongues.

So, I decided to teach him a few simple Spanish words…..buenos nochos, buenos dios, mucho bueno, etc…..you get the idea. He was thrilled.

One night while giving him his bath, I said “Let me wash your tee-tee. Now stand up and let me wash your too-too.”

“That’s not my too-too, Mommy; that’s my bottom!”

“Well, if that’s your tee-tee, then this is your too-too”, I replied.

“No, no, no! That’s my bottom!” he huffed.

“Okay. Then if that’s your bottom, then that’s your penis.”

“Nuh-uh….is not……..it’s my tee-tee!”

“No Joey. It really is your penis.”

He studied me for a minute and said “OOOOHHHH! I get it!! Penis is Spanish for tee-tee!”

It was a long while before I got up the nerve to take him to a Mexican restaurant.

Sex and the City is one of my favorite late-night reruns to watch (TBS).

Last night, I spewed iced tea all over myself at this scene:

Miranda (the redhead) had sex with a fellow Weight Watcher (he was on top and you saw him coming out from under the covers……..Miranda had a very strange look on her face). Pan to restaurant where the four girls are cracking up.

Carrie says “Miranda had sex with an overeater and he over-ate-her!”

I lost it, I tell ya.

Lou Rawls passed away today at the age of 72.

Now, I’m no huge fan of Lou Rawls nor do I own any of his albums. So why, you ask, am I posting about him?

Well, it reminded me of a story……………..

Back during the oil boom of the early 80’s, I was in charge of a drilling site. In the course of doing title research, I realized that I’d need several oil and gas lease ratifications (confirmation from potential owners of mineral rights that they concurred with the existing lease terms). These documents had to be signed and notarized; and, because the spud date was imminent, I needed them ASAP.

I called in one of our field landmen (I was an in-house landman), advised him of the circumstances and sent him off to catch a plane to various locations, including Atlantic City.

He was advised that when he had the last document signed in Atlantic City, to call me and we’d go ahead with the drilling. His trip took around three days and on the final day, he called:

“Hey, I’ve got your ratifications”, he said. “Great! Thanks for all your hard work”, I replied.

“No, problem. And by the way, who’s your favorite male singer?” he asked.

This landman and I were good friends (we hung out with a group of 5 or 6 other landmen a couple of times a month); so, he knew the answer before he asked.

“Billy Joel, of course”, I said. “Well, I’ve got you an autograph”, he proudly announced.

“Nuh-uh, no way!” I sputtered. “You do NOT!”

“Yep, I’ve got you an autograph”.

Well, this was on a Friday; he was not scheduled to return to the office until Monday. So, I excitedly waited all weekend for my autograph (and of course, the legal documents as well……which had taken second place in importance…….in MY mind anyway).

Bright and early Monday morning, he walked into my office and handed me the ratifications, which I promptly threw aside and hollered “Where’s my autograph?”.

He handed me a folded yellow sheet of paper from a legal pad. I unfolded it and read:

To Kit

Lou Rawls

I nearly pissed my pants from laughing. Lou Rawls had been on the same plane and the landman had conned him out of an autograph.

It was one of the funniest things that’s ever happened to me.

So……..

Dear Lou,

Kit

So tonight I’m sitting in my chair watching ‘Prince of Tides’ (no, it wasn’t a TV movie; yes, I own the DVD) and John walks in. After staring at the TV for a few minutes he says “Is that Gary Busey?”

“No,” I replied. “That’s Nick Nolte”.

He watches a minute or two longer and says “that’s Gary Busey”. Again I say “No, that’s Nick Nolte”.

“No it’s not, it’s Gary Busey” he reiterates. “Go look at the movie jacket….it’s Nick Nolte” I reply.

“Then why does he go by Gary Busey?” John asks.

How can a mother possibly keep a straight face after a conversation like this?

**UPDATE**

Other than the ‘hair’, I just don’t see the resemblance, LB!

May you have a healty, peaceful and prosperous 2006