BEWARE OF BLEEDING CHINCHILLA

There's at least four words in the English language that I can never pronounce correctly. They are (in no particular order):

1) "Chipotle"

2) "Worcestershire"

3) "Alzheimer's"

4) "Sorry" (According to my wife who's still pissed I accidentally threw away the Christmas card from her friend that moved away 10 years ago. The friend moved away 10 years ago. I accidentally threw the card away last week. Just wanted to clarify.)

My boy Mattie Gee and I were talking about this the other day. While we're both huge music fans ... we shy away from female singers.

I was just reminded of why.

I just heard a Kate Bush song.

Kate Bush freaks my shit out.

She sounds like Glenda the Good Witch when she sings.

Take it somewhere else, Kate Bush.

You've screwed my appreciation for female singers something silly.

I cracked a tooth on a bone sliver in one of my chiliburgers from the other day.

As if the burgers didn't turn out bad enough, now they're causing me dental work.

Talk about a recipe gone bad.

Andrew has FINALLY gotten over his "Little Einsteins" obsession.

Now it's "Go Diego Go!"

Which means now he runs around the house thinking he's a chinchilla.

One of these days he's going to be a chinchilla who's a proud owner of a backhanded slap to the mouth because I'm sick of him running up to me, screaming "I'M A CHINCHILLA, DAD!!"

Look!

Now you're a BLOODY chinchilla, son!

Mommy and Daddy are for babies and he's no longer a baby.

Except when he gets a backhanded slap across the teeth.

Then he's a baby of major proportions.

Ahhh ... they grow up so quick.

I have some in the house ... it's just not within reach.

There.

I got up and got it.

And you were never the wiser, huh?

He called at 8:45 p.m.

I felt bad telling him that I had to bathe the boy and do Christmas cards and couldn't meet up with him.

I think he understood.

He just wouldn't stop crying for some reason.

Freak.