[oh, yeah, and I SO have that seriously vacant stare and killer waxed arched-brow thing happening too... and the flowing red cape. And Steve looks exactly like that, if he puts on his blonde Warwick Capper wig]Tonight going to bed, the conversation between father and daughter was thus:
He: Daddy's going to pick up his new car tomorrow!
She: *after some frowning and careful deliberation* Is your new car heavy?
He: Yes.
She: *decided furrow in her brow* Mummy might help you lift it then.
You know, I really love it that HE is now getting paid back. He's been so smart-arse literal with me about all those things I've said over the years, off the cuff. It's just lucky for her she's so darn cute and innocent or he'd try and out-do her. I can see them both in years to come, the literary to and fro between them like some cunning game of mind-chess until one of them fries a wire over it and calls Game Off.
Eh. Whatever wears them out and keeps them from turning it on me, right?
