What. What? You Want a Title? What am I, Cecil B. De Mille???

This little oaf I call my son is now big enough to be a true OAF.

Yesterday we were messing around with my Kurzweil MK 10 piano, and we discovered that if you play a key JUST RIGHT it sounds like a glass smashing on the floor. Really!

So, while Brigitte slumbered on in the early morning hours, Tai-chan and I devised a plan: We'd first pull up my office chair next to the piano so she wouldn't be able to see what was going on from her vantage point next to the piano.

So far, so good. Then I told Tai-chan, whatever you do, wait till she's having her morning coffee and looking really bleary eyed, then take my 12-string guitar and perch it on the edge of the piano and say "Look, Brigitte! Look what Daddy showed me!" So she can't see your fingers on the piano keys.

Before that, though, Daddy's going to say "I'm tired, I think I'm going to lie down."

So I go lie down, and Tai-chan waits just for the right moment, tells Brigitte what Daddy showed him but at the EXACT SAME INSTANT plays the loud crashing sound on the keyboard.

I told him to say "Oh no, no, oh no, DON'T TELL DADDY, HE'LL BE ANGRY, PLEASE BRIGITTE!!!"

And she freaked.

She actually started looking for the glass pieces from my guitar.

Next up: Brigitte! Daddy's GI Joe's are dying!

WHAT?

They're asking for water, Brigitte! Daddy never feeds them any more! Look how thin they're getting! BRIGITTE!

She gon' love DAT.

Yeah, I know I'm mean.