Willy Nilly Shally Shilly

Let’s forgo all of the boring, incoherent blather I have percolating in my brain today (honestly you do *not* want to know!) and we’ll just say that I did choose the baby over the fish. I like fish, so it was a hard choice. Once, when I was three and my cuzzint Grinch was six, we were in the back of Grandroobly’s car (or maybe it was one of Grandberry’s Studebakers, I dunno, I don’t remember whether there was cigar smoke or not) and we fought to the death over who got to hold a package of smoked fish that had been purchased somewhere up near Fin Family Moominbeach. Out on the res or wherever. (I doubt that the Grinchie remembers that incident even though he is older than me but I swear it’s true.) Anyway, in the end, I guess I couldn’t resist the cute little outfit so I got stuck with the baby and some Veteran Greenhorn got to enjoy the fish.


One Response to “Willy Nilly Shally Shilly”

  1. Marquis Says:

    Isn’t she under the limit?