My Son Does Not Appreciate Me

Tonight, at bedtime, as I was on my way out Thing 2's door -- we'd done the book-reading, and teeth-brushing, and pyjama-putting-on, and writing-about-the-book-in-his-school-notebook, so he had about twenty minutes to play before his real bedtime -- I remembered to feed his fish.

And, as I fed the fish (the one survivor of three or four we got a couple of months ago), I asked the boy if we'd remembered to name that fish. He said no; the fish didn't have a name.

So I said, "How about Mr. Von Dingle-Dangle-Dungle-son?" (Which I thought was quite good on the the spur of the moment.)

He gave me a pitying look and said something about not wanting a silly name.

Well, that put me in my place, so I just went downstairs.