“Barry,” my cousin Mike said, “I think it’s time.” It was clear that my brother didn’t feel the same way, but he only shrugged, which Mike took as agreement. “Dave,” he said, giving the words as much gravity as he could muster, “Go get the dictionary.” I was nine years old, and a tag-along. I’d walked in on my brother telling a story about how—during school that morning—a girl he knew got her period in the middle of French class. And I laughed like the dickens. And then they called me on it. After I’d lugged the dictionary down from the spare room, Mike told me to look up the word period and read out the definition. “The end of a cycle, a series of events, or a single action?” “Keep going,” he said. “The full pause with which a sentence closes?” “Not that.” “An interval of geologic—“ “Gimme that!” He yanked the book towards him, read down the page, and pointed me towards the definition he’d found. Menstruation: the monthly discharge of blood from the uterus of nonpregnant women from pu...
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Seriously, though, I've been listening to all the wonderful songs that will be going on the Algonquin Trippers 2006 DVD.
:)
Thanks for introducing me to Plaskett.
I pop in one of these CD's on my drive home, and turn it way up when I get to the coolest street ever, with trees lining both sides and awesome Victorian homes on either side. And I get my groove on. And mellow out.
That way, by the time I pick up Braeden, I'm good for a couple hours of homework and 5-year-old enthusiasm.
(This was a really long answer to your question. You're welcome.)