That move, at 1:15, is exactly what the Little Guy does whenever you try to put him in his carseat, or his booster chair, or your lap, or anywhere else that might threaten to confine Mr. You Can't Contain Me.
In 16 years maybe he'll be saying hi to Nigel for me. But for now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go purchase some duct tape. We'll see who can't be contained now.
Happily married, book-and-movie-loving owner of two cats, who is curiously susceptible to writer's block, can carry on an entire conversation using only movie quotes and Far Side captions, and knows the correct spelling of "prima donna" and the right way to use "quintessential."
Yes, that's it.
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I came across this poem, "The Spot" by Holly Day, this afternoon. (Scroll
down to the bottom of the page; it won't let me link to the individual
poem.)
Ye...
2 comments:
I didn't even have to watch it- I knew EXACTLY what you are talking about.
Heh. Is that because you're familiar with this dance, or because you're familiar with little boys? :)
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