I Don't Want a Pickle, Just Want to Ride on My Motorcycle*
Lana came in the house yesterday after jogging at the park with Husband.
(For Lana, jogging at the park involves sitting in the babyjogger and yelling, "go faster, Daddy, go faster" while Husband runs, pushing the babyjogger in front of him. Husband indicates that other joggers find this hilarious.) (I tend to think that Husband WOULD find it hilarious, except that it is also very hard work to run and push a babyjogger faster and faster. So I'm told. I wouldn't know.)
As they walked in the house, Husband asked me, "Is today the 1st of June?" (This was apropos of, what? I don't know, because we never got any further into that conversation.)
Lana piped up, "In June, I'm gettin' a MOTORCYCLE!"
Husband and I, together, "What?"
"In June, I'm gettin' a MOTORCYCLE. Gonna go FAST."
Yeah, hold the phone and put on the brakes, baby girl. Not. Gonna. Happen.
"Where are you getting the motorcycle from?" I ask her, curious.
"Don't know," she said happily. "Just gonna get one."
I am in so. much. trouble.
*Arlo Guthrie, "The Motorcycle Song", from the album Alice's Restaurant