The Human Kazoo At Large
My husband stared at me in amazement. "Honey, I didn't know you could do that!"
Somehow in seven years of marriage, I had never performed my Human Kazoo for . It's a simple stupid human trick I perfected in 8th grade gym class while walking laps around the field with my friend Carmen. We hated having to "exercise" on that crunchy, Texas grass but during our hot rounds, we created something beautiful. The Human Kazoo. Day after day, it got us around the track until Coach let us in for lunch. After we finally graduated to high school, the Human Kazoo's purpose had been met and we moved on to developing new skills like disguising zits and flirting. The Kazoo was forgotten.
I haven't surprised my husband in years. He's heard all my stories times, seen all my party tricks (knunchucks, freaky yoga poses, singing Yankee Doodle Backwards) and is now relieved to just sit back and not be surprised anymore. So when I became the Human Kazoo the other day to distract my two year old from a developing temper tantrum, his jaw dropped.
It felt good, having a trick left in the bag. I'd just assumed at this point that I had no mystique left so it's nice to know that this old gal's still got it. I'm fresh, I'm foxy, and doggone it, I do a heck of a kazoo impression. Who wouldn't want to be married to me?
Since I know you're just dying to hear it, here's a demo and brief instruction so that you too, can kazoo.
Somehow in seven years of marriage, I had never performed my Human Kazoo for . It's a simple stupid human trick I perfected in 8th grade gym class while walking laps around the field with my friend Carmen. We hated having to "exercise" on that crunchy, Texas grass but during our hot rounds, we created something beautiful. The Human Kazoo. Day after day, it got us around the track until Coach let us in for lunch. After we finally graduated to high school, the Human Kazoo's purpose had been met and we moved on to developing new skills like disguising zits and flirting. The Kazoo was forgotten.
I haven't surprised my husband in years. He's heard all my stories times, seen all my party tricks (knunchucks, freaky yoga poses, singing Yankee Doodle Backwards) and is now relieved to just sit back and not be surprised anymore. So when I became the Human Kazoo the other day to distract my two year old from a developing temper tantrum, his jaw dropped.
It felt good, having a trick left in the bag. I'd just assumed at this point that I had no mystique left so it's nice to know that this old gal's still got it. I'm fresh, I'm foxy, and doggone it, I do a heck of a kazoo impression. Who wouldn't want to be married to me?
Since I know you're just dying to hear it, here's a demo and brief instruction so that you too, can kazoo.
(A word to my readers, I'm participating in National Blog Posting Month again this year - NaBloPoMo for your geeks out there - and promise to post at least once a day in November. Hold me to it.)
Comments
I'm also lovin' the fabulous new 'do.
Love...Dad
PS It was so nice to talk at length with Penny on the phone on Monday. She is becoming an elequent conversationalist!