Monday, November 17, 2008

Pants on Fire

"Liar, liar, pants on fire. Your nose is as long as a telephone wire. " Or how about, "Roses are red, violets are blue, gargabe stinks and so do you." I was having a '50s flashback today, remembering all the awful things I used to say to my brother when we were kids.

I also thought about the many times my brother and I sat in our grandfather's over-stuffed, green leather chair, drawing mustaches on the models' pictures in my grandmother's favorite fashion magazines. We were a team. We had something in common...subverting the adults.

Things have changed. My brother's a Republican; I'm a Democrat. He still likes Bush; I think Bush is full pucky. He likes the hot Florida weather, I like cold, upstate New York winters. We have nothing in common.

I miss that over-stuffed green leather chair full of fond memories. It's been replaced with contentious political discourse, disagreement about the weather, and a general feeling of wanting to revert back to the, "Liar, liar pants on fire..." days of childhood.

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