What your people call episode three my people call episode two. No maize need enter the conversation unless you’re jones-ing for some corn.
    Mmmm…. corn…. That reminds me about one of my favorite throw-away jokes from the now-defunct cartoon show “Invader Zim” was spoken by the hapless protagonist, Dib. When he asks the teacher if he may be excused to use the bathroom he is informed that he’s used up his allotment of bathroom breaks for the current semester. In protest, Dib wails,
    ”But that was corn and mayonaise day!”
    And that, friends, is one of many reasons Nickelodeon killed Invader Zim.

    What my first sentence was alluding to in the most tenuous way possible was that Closure’s rewrite marches on and the new series is in episode two. If you’re a reader of the first run of book one then you’ll find that the majority of the events in the current episode two were actually episodes three and one…. Eh, its all nuts and bolts. Note I’m using Sarah’s excellent interpretation of Bruce. Oh, Sarah, how I miss your visits; I’ve been a beast, however, and haven’t visited you either. Apathy will kill us all, mark my words. Well, apathy and natural causes.

    I promised cute kid stories, and here’s a couple.
    In a conversation with Samantha regarding the cat, Sisco, we got to talking about names. For some reason I found myself explaining that a boy cat shouldn’t have the name Buttercup.
    ”Why not?” asked Sam, who was sitting in her bed about four feet in the air.
    ”Because its not really a boy’s name and Sisco is a boy cat. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be Buttercup.”
    ”We could always call him Mister Buttercup.”

    Here’s another. Riley, who is now not-quite a year and a half old, has discovered the joys of having books read to her. Nice, thick board books with bright colors and pictures she can point at. To initiate the cuteness, we start by saying,
    ”Riley! Go get a book! You want to read a book?” the child then pounds across the room, arms swinging, towards her stash of baby books. She seems to pick one with care (often tossing undesirable fare aside) and then toddles back with a big grin on her face.
    She doesn’t go straight up to you, however. No, when she gets within three feet or so she turns around and slowly walks backwards into you. If you are sitting on the floor she will then plop her little but onto your lap, book already in position for you to read it to her over her shoulder. This maneuver makes a bit less sence when you are sitting on the couch, as you must pick her up to get her in your lap, but its still a bit more convenient since you needn’t turn her about.
    My toddler is all about efficiency, apparently.

    One last story, and then I gotta go. One day a week or so ago I was serving hot-dogs to Riley. I had just placed the wiener on the plate and sat myself down in front of her high-chair to feed it to her. I presented the food to her and proclaimed,
    ”Hot-dog! This is a hot-dog!”
    To which Riley replied–quite clearly:
    ”Woof-fffffffffffffff!”
    Yes, she said woof (because its a dog, naturally) and then blew towards it, because I had said it was hot. Get it? A literally hot dog? Now that’s getting it wrong the clever way.