Jessica had a pop tart this morning (also known as ‘The Great Anti-Christ’ to diabetics) and I gave the other pop tart to Abigail (also known as “Dad is Great, He gives us Chocolate Cake” to Bill Cosby fans). However, Abby was not convinced that this was a good idea. She’s just not a big fan of them. This is fine with me because their nutritional value has to be somewhere between an injection of sugar and wonderbread.

Speaking of which when my dad was a kid he used to get loaves of wonderbread and do compression testing on them in comparison contests with whole wheat bread. He would take the loaves, and in complete opposite to Jesus, who turned a few loaves of bread into many baskets of bread, would smash the loaves in a vice. Apparently the wonderbread would smash into a tiny, thin bit ‘o bread while the whole wheat loaves would still maintain some substance simply because they had substance.

Another story of my predecessors is this: My dad used to run tiny electrical wires a few chairs ahead of him in school and attach those wires to the bottoms of the metal clips that held the seat to the structure of the desk. He would then attach the positive and negative ends of a battery to the wire ends, shock the crap out of the person in the seat and then yank the wires back to him so that he would be away from the scene of the crime (a few desks back) and have the wires and battery hidden in a pocket.

Hearing this story growing up probably helped me learn a valuable lesson: Don’t get caught… and its better to be an instigator who plants ideas rather than the one actually doing the naughty deed. As an adult I’ve learned this: I’m so in trouble when my kids get older and learn about these things because it will be me who has to explain to parents that my little girl is only doing what she learned about from her grandpa, great grandpa and dad.