Applesauce

If it weren't for Mr. Rogers I would have never learned how applesauce is made and then how it's processed immediately afterwards.

Sometime within the last week I've learned that PBS is taking Mr. Rogers Neighborhood off the air... permanently. I can't remember who's blog I read it on, but it was most devastating news.

I was counting on that show to teach my son.

More bad news I found out last week includes learning that Warner Bros is pushing back the date of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince to July 09.

It's fucking bullshit.

So as you can tell, last week was a very difficult week for me and I'm not sure if this week's going to be any better. It's too early to tell.

I've been down in the dumps so bad that I haven't been able to do anything but watch preseason football. It's not that I even want to watch it 24/7, it's just always happens to be on the NFL Network these days and I'm just too damned depressed to change the channel.

Word

A couple of months back Allyson, Max and I were in a car crash. Thankfully, none of us were injured. But the incident has made me realize that certain preparations must be made in the unfortunate event that both Allyson and I expire before July, 6th, 2025 (Max's 18th birthday).

Therefore as God and you (the reader) as my witnesses, we have decided to leave our son ,Max, in the care of our beloved cat, Fonzie.

Max has officially spoken his first word: Cat. "So let it be written. So let it be done."

It's clear to me that Max has a psychic rapport with the cat. Why else would he say cat before he said Dad?

There is no doubt in my mind that Fonzie is capable of caring for our son. He's a very formidable cat with claws and girth. I don't think a raccoon would stand a chance against him and I've seen with my own eyes what happens to a bug that comes into contact with Fonzie.

I also know that Fonzie would make sure that Max didn't spend too much time in front of the television (another beloved family pet) on a school night.

Now if anything should ever happen to us and Fonzie, we have a serious problem, because I could never leave Max in the care of our other Cat. She has too many fucking issues and only cares about eating and being left alone. Plus, I don't think she's nearly as formidable as the Fonz, although she does OK against moths and spiders.

I wonder what Max's second word will be... My first word was Budweiser, and obviously my second word was America, but that was 1970 and the world's a much different place today.