A March of Clams

“March. In like a lion, out like a clam,” says Dylan.

“Lamb, buddy. Lamb,” I say. “A lion is ferocious, like winter. A lamb is gentle, like spring.”

“Clams are gentle,” says Dylan. “Clams don’t even have legs. How could they attack you? Seriously.”

“Point taken. March. In like a lion. Out like a clam.”


You’ll Never Guess

Five-year-old Nate calls me for his bedtime story tonight by saying “You’ll never guess how many virgins I have in here!”
I’m like “What? Oh… versions… of Goodnight Moon. Fantastic. That’s exactly what I thought you said.”