My six-month-old son just said “mama!” He saw how pleased I was, and kept doing it. My three-year-old daughter thinks it’s cool, and she’s trying to get him to say her name now. He’s trying. It keeps coming out “blkgrthpld,” but he’ll get it right eventually.
Woohoo!
This is my new sig. Thank Wally. It was his idea.
“I made my husband join a bridge club. He jumps next Tuesday.”
I was just about to say something tremendously poignant and witty concerning the nucleotide series and the role of base G codon overlaps vs. Gamow’s original diamond coding hypothesis, but then I thought, Gee, what a cute kid . . .
Dr. Watson
“No matter how much Jell-O you put in the pool, you still can’t walk on water.”
It’s pretty clear to me that the, “mama,” reference is actually a cleverly coded message: “MA. MA. (Preferably Cambridge, ya big dummy, and quit makin’ them goofy faces at me and get ta work on my trust fund.)”
Of course, I’ve been wrong before.
Dr. Watson
“You probably don’t want to know what that odor is.”
Yale, so he can join the Skull & Bones, like George Bush, and grow up to be President. (Much better if he could join the Elizbethan Club, but they’re more selective.)
“there’s nary a dog alive can outrun a greased Scotsman”
send him to my fine seat of learning, Dundalk Institute of Technology, Where he can learn many great tricks, including, how to get drunk without any money and how to graduate with something as worthless as wet toilet paper.
not that I’m bitter or anything…