My 16-year-old nephew spent the weekend at our place, teaching me that Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift is by far the best movie of the Fast and the Furious trilogy. On the ride back to Tacoma, I was quickly reminded that my dinky car cannot drift and is neither fast or furious.
When I dropped him off, I played with Nathan in the living room and my sister’s husband said, “He’s so fat. Like his mom.” He began to laugh like that was some great side-ripping punchline. So my brother-in-law might be a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but really, who jokes like that? Especially after all I’ve done for him and his family, like, I don’t know, stepping in as a temporary custodian so his newborn wouldn’t be put in foster care?
If Nathan could walk, he would drop-kick him like nothing and show him what an ankle-biter really is.
I bought this Leapfrog Discovery Ball at a thrift store for 1 dollar. It was set to the music mode, so when I spun it in the store, it lit up and played a little ditty. My cold cheapskate heart was elated that at such a steal. I was already fantasizing that Nathan’s Harvard graduation speech would begin with, “Well, I really have to thank my mom for her incredible shopping skills and the purchase of a clever rubber ball. It was called a ‘Discovery Ball’ and on the day she introduced it to me, I discovered what a wonderful mother she is. And not to mention, not fat at all. Nope, no fat on this woman. God, how does she do it?”
I brought it home to my husband. I told him that it was only a dollar and before we could lock arms and do our tightwad frolic, he turned it to the ABC mode and learned why it was so cheap.
This is where you come in. I need you to turn up your speaker, play the video and tell me if I’m hearing things.
“Q R F”? What kind of learning tool is this? Can I take it back and say, “Sorry, but this effing toy is dyslexic?” If I keep it, he’ll be lucky to get a diploma from ITT Tech.