Now that our eight weekends of soccer tournaments are nearing an end, the boys are dreaming of Disneyland. We’re driving home last weekend and they’re telling me everything they want to do. I’m not quite as enthusiastic and so the hard sell begins…
James says, “You can go get a massage while we go on rides.”
“A Disney massage?” I ask dubiously.
“What… You don’t want a massage from Goofy?”
“That doesn’t sound very relaxing.”
And then James starts “Ha har ha harring” in a goofy Goofy impersonation as he kneads imaginary shoulders and drives the car up our winding road.
This is not helping your pitch.
And Nate pipes up with perfect comedic timing, “Mom, his hands are so soft.”