Over the Hedge by T Lewis and Michael Fry for January 14, 2017
Transcript:
hibernation: day 2.... are we there yet? for the 100th time, hammy! spring is two months away! hammy's touching me. nun uh! rj's touching me! No! he's touching me! no sir! he's touching me! enough! don't make me turn this log around! are we there yet? Grrrrrr!
Just think, 100 years ago they used to spike the baby’s milk bottle with a little whisky to “calm” them down. As short as 50 years ago, pregnant mothers were not warned to stop alcohol and cigarettes. Now, it seems that to that list must be added Marijuana. Fortunately for me, my mother did not drink or smoke nor get high on anything else (as far as I now), and look at the mess I turned out to be. Its one thing to endure the “touching me war” in the back seat, but quite another to “accidentally” leave one of your kids at the service station (20 miles of sheer terror driving back with the heated debate of “I thought you were watching him”). I have “grrrrr-ed” many times myself, so I can relate. Is a station wagon close enough to a hollow log to count?