Cartoon

Sorry for the delay. Final projects are due tomorrow. GRE next Tuesday. Then I can fulfill my monthlong ambition: to become rich and famous through steady, incisive blogerature.

So I was watching that nanny show on Monday with my wife. One of the unruly kids was named Chase. On the way to the commercials, the voice-over announcer did one of these "Coming up next..." routines. They show video of Dad running around the house after Chase. And then the announcer actually said it! Something like, "Chase gives [Dad's name] the runaround." I laughed, then explained to Sarah that this was a Tom Swiftie, like "'Time for your bypass surgery,' the doctor said heartily." We laughed about this for a minute, about our gotcha of the media being absurd and punny, like in a Warner Brothers cartoon.

Then Sarah asked me for something from the kitchen, so I twisted from my sitting position on the floor to get up. My knee landed on something squishy, and to my surprise it squeaked, in a wet, high-pitched ee aw. I looked down, and there was the rubber duck. What else could it have been? I was a parent.

And all of a sudden I was in that cartoon, laughing like crazy.