What's it do to your brain to be constantly in the company of two six year old girls? They view me as their own personal Jerry Lewis. What are we gonna do now? Do something silly. Go run into that tree again. I'm hungry. Put on a puppet show. Put that chicken down. What would be great is, if I had one of those circus cannons. I could escape by getting in it and shooting myself into the forest. "Hold that thought girls, let me just climb in here". Then, BLAM, see ya. Giving them the finger as I rocket to certain doom. Then there's the up coming trip to Storyland, it's looming over me, like a five hundred foot Charles Nelson Reiley. He has a gift for me. Madness. Maybe that's what I need. Embrace the inevitable.
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