Do They Scare Away Little Cocks?
“Do they scare away little cocks?” The conversation stopper uttered by my 4-year-old, Lulu, during our discussion on scarecrows yesterday. I’m absolutely sure there were no racial implications when she then mentioned that the aforementioned cocks happened to be black. Needless to say, MRS and I went to great pains to explain to Lulu that the birds intended to be frightened off by the hay-filled people on sticks were indeed black crows, not little black cocks—an important distinction, I think.
I was planning on writing more on this subject, but MRS got all “Julia Child” on me last night and whipped up an amazing french meal that accompanied almost two bottles of wine—ergo, I feel like dog shit as I: let MRS sleep in, attempt to keep the girls from screaming too loudly as they destroy the house in front of their indifferent dad, and watch Chelsea and Liverpool battle it out on the pitch. Ironically, a rare dads-day at the sports bar awaits me this afternoon for a preplanned meet-up to watch the Broncos take on the Cowboys—just the thought of beer and wings aromas turns my stomach at this point.
On a side note, Lulu scored five goals in her first organized soccer game, yesterday. I’m feeling pretty good about a Stanford scholarship for her. No pressure, though. And aside from my probable financial windfall from her performance, 4-year-old girls soccer is pretty damn cute.
