Tales of the Tank

November 15


Imagine, if you will, that you have just wielded your light-up wizard wand and vanquished any and all dark forces that may or may not have been lurking in the kitchen.  When such a job is complete one wants to tuck one’s wand safely away, in say a pocket maybe, for future use.

But, alas, upon examining your cute, plaid, flannel pajama pants, you discover you have no pockets!  What do you do?

Well, if you are a three-year-old boy, you drop your pajama pants down around your knees and try to stick the wand in your underwear “pocket”.  Dude, it is a pocket, right?


Fast forward to later that day but in a different place.  To be specific, we were in a rather large, rather unique grocery store taking a tour for a home school field trip (I am now, by the way, a huge fan of persimmons, which I had never eaten before).

At this point Tank Boy did have on pants with pockets, but that has no actual bearing on this story.

“Mom!  I hab a booger in my mouf!” he said rather loudly.

Why is it when someone says something completely unexpected we say, “What?”

“What?” I said.

“I hab a booger in my mouf!” he repeated to the glee of everyone in the group but me.

“Oh, son, that’s gross,” I said as I began to dig for a Kleenx in which he could spit the booger.

“It’s o.k.,” he loudly interrupted my all-too-brief search.  “It’s gone now.”  And, no, he had not spit it out.  We pressed on.


Now, aren’t you glad I didn’t include a photo illustration of underwear and loogies?  Though, really, I could have at least taken the produce sticker off that top persimmon, no?

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.

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