True Stories
The Players:
Blambdad: Blamb’s dad. Taught at same high School as my Dad. Taught me geography (or tried to, anyway).
My Dad. Can’t give him a cute nickname like my mom (Queen Mum), because if a Queen’s Dad were still alive, he’d be King and she’d only be a princess. Unless he abdicated or was a stepdad (Queen Mom’s consort). You see the dilemma?
The Setting:
An auction in or around Glencoe. Auctions out in the country are like garage sales in the city only bigger.

Blambdad: “Hey Peter, good to see you. How’s the Ice Queen doing?”
My father is stunned into silence. Is Blambdad talking about his wife? His boss? Who? And using a mean nickname for someone is pretty out of character for Blambdad.

Well, they eventually straightened it out.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best story. I’ll try harder.

In other news, Ice Prince and I made waffles for Fresh’s birthday breakfast yesterday.
“WE MADE YOU PARTY WAFFLES, DADDY!”

We also made an Angel Food Cake. Ice Prince covered it with a tea towel in the morning.
“I will put a blanket over it so I won’t eat it all and I won’t get a tummy ache.” My son, the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal.