|The boys are really quite close... and sure, maybe a little hard on Downtown Tokyo.|
In the midst of one of their recent no-holds-barred meeting-of-the-minds, Bronko and Nagurski -- Da-da's four- and six-year-old, two-fisted love-muffin gargantuas -- thrashed out hirsute, sage advice, not only for the grampas in their lives, but for quantum grampas everywhere (in Westernized countries, anyway). Da-da has thus been tasked with clarifying the role of those carrying the title, "GRAMPA," for today's post-post-modern, quantum children, aged two to ten. The gargantuas' hairy knuckled attorney duly informed Da-da that he must comply within the specified time frame (um, like NOW) as outlined on page 97 of the prospectus, or suffer an, "attornity" of legalage tantrums. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Please pay attention.
To Whom It May Concern... Dear Whom:
As grampa, you are duly required to carry in your pockets at all times (24/7/365) something:
A. interesting, and/or useful (no, not that); B. amusing (no, not that), or; C. incomprehensible (no, not that). Here's a handy G-rated list of things that should be found in grampa's pockets:
- Toys (any)
- Popsicles (unmelted)
- More toys and popsicles
- Cookies (sans lint)
- More cookies (with or without lint)
- Anything remote controlled (and G-rated)
- Anything with a "D" rocket motor (and G-rated)
- Extra "D" rocket motors
- Explosives of any kind
- A puppy
- A giant robot
- An extradimensional space.
Failing to fulfill this obligation will result in your grampanessity being rendered either non compos mentis or e sinus pluribus unum, and "the cat" will heretofore NOT LIKE YOU ("the cat" defined as the 1200 lb. Bengal tiger living in the backyard). You have been warned grampa-citizen.
|Is that the 5000 piece LEGO Millenium Falcon in there?|