In which the Tank proves to have an excellent sense of humor.

The Tank spends a lot of time in the car, accompanying me as I shuttle his brothers and their friends to soccer, piano, basketball, choir and whatever else it is they do. He looks forward to meeting their friends and knows them all by name. Most of them try to ignore him, but when some two year old is yelling, at the top of his ever-growing lungs,

"HI MY NAME IS J! HI MY NAME IS J! HI MY NAME IS J!"

it cannot be dismissed. They cave and introduce themselves, which silences the Tank for at least thirty seconds, before he starts making growling noises and yammering about farts, two things which have earned consistent laughs in the past.

The other day, we were on our way to pick up a carload of pre-adolescent stinkweeds young men in need of a ride from choir to soccer. The Tank knows the drill. As we drove, he chanted cheerily,

"How 'bout...Phillip! How 'bout...Caleb*!"

He continued, naming two of O's friends who share names with two members of the Tank's favorite band.

"How 'bout...John! How 'bout...Paul!" He paused dramatically. "How 'bout...YELLOW SUMMARINE!"

The Tank cracks himself up. He's more obsessed with his Beatles shirt than his keerus pants, if you can believe that. I purchased the shirt on a whim at Target for the low, low clearance price of $3.98. You never know what item of clothing will become an obsession, so choose wisely. I like the Beatles shirt. It looks a little ridiculous with the keerus pants, especially now that the Tank's rapid growth has turned it into a half-shirt, but I like it all the same. The Beatles shirt, when it was new, on a day when I managed to wrangle the Tank into an outfit that more or less matches:

Frankly, I think if the Tank can make sophisticated jokes, he can da*n well use the potty. He does not agree. It'll happen, right? Right?

Namasté, y'all!

* The Tank is not that smart. Caleb is a basketball friend, not soccer or choir.