*summons the willpower and concentration to tune out the singing socks on Sesame St. and instead work on writing my Tri-Galactic Trek tale*
I’ve failed to tune out the Sesame St… This message is brought to you by the letter W and the number 0, representing my word count.
On the bright side, Tina Fey is dressed as a pirate and singing about books?
The four-year-old says he’s a chef at a restaurant for dinosaurs and people.
The dinosaurs want milkshakes.
The four-year-old: “I cooked for seven years, and it was very hard, and I cooked every day and became a famous chef!”
The four-year-old has hired Spider-Man as a waiter.
The dinosaur restaurant has been beset by ghosts. So the four-year-old has become a part-time chef, part-time ghostbuster.
The four-year-old has only the essentials in his backpack: “…ghost trap, blaster, a bow tie for when I want to be the Doctor…”
I’ve been given a blaster and conscripted into fighting ghosts.
Now the four-year-old has me watering the ghosts to turn them into bad cats who want to scratch you, but when you run away, they turn into nice turtles…
The four-year-old made me promise I would stay up late fighting monsters to keep him safe before he agreed to go to bed.