One of the girls has become a superlative burper.
I won’t say who. Not to protect her identity. I don’t want it to go to her head. Yeah, it’s like that. A second sister is a close second, and the third, well, she’s the only kid who objects to the blatant prideful manner in which her sisters expel air from their stomachs, upward.
Friends, family and strangers cannot seem to break her of the habit of making each burp opportunity the 72-point war headline that she’s perfected.
That second sister? She’s scheming a way to unseat the queen.
People often ask, “don’t you wonder what it’d be like – to have all boys?”
“Nope,” I say. “Never.”
1. Why do we burp?
For you girls? Clearly it’s for the judges.
Technically, you’re eructating. That sounds like it should involve partially digested food stuff or maybe pertain to excavation of fossilized body waste. Either way – gross. WebMD calls three or four burps after a meal “normal.” In other facts I don’t want Burper Girl to know: It’s socially acceptable to burp in India and Turkey.
It’s just trapped air in your belly that gets caught up when you swallow food. Know how Elise sometimes wipes out her own defenders when she slides out to stop a shot? Well, it’s like that.
And just as noisy.
2. What do the refs do during a replay?
Jesus (or random.org) has delivered its share of referee questions lately.
(Side note: I get along with some refs. But the concept overall … it’s like the Los Angeles Clippers and championship rings – it’s just not a match. I stopped going to Sports clips for haircuts because the stylists dressed like referees. The stripes give me the bends.)
That said …
In the NBA and NFL, they watch slow-mo replay to see if a player stayed in bounds, if a knee was down before a fumble or touchdown, or if a shot cleared the net before time expires.
I suspect they also check, for those last-minute decisions, on the nearest escape route if they rule against the home team.
3, Is that stucco?
Coach Daddy will travel to great lengths to uncover truth for you, girls.
I’ve called insurance offices and polled random strangers and dollar-store clerks. When possible, I’ll reference the world rather than simply Google. So I called Talbots in Asheville. That’s the store with the bumpy walls that prompted this question. I spoke with Aubrey.
CD: Hi! Listen, I have a question for you. It’s a little outside the box, but totally legit. You have a second?
Aubrey: Um, not really. What’s your question?
CD: Your building. Is that … stucco?
Aubrey: [crickets] … um …
CD: See, I write this blog. My kids ask me questions, and I find the answers. It’s not just architectural building materials on retail structures in western North Carolina cities.
Heck, there are 385 questions on the list right now waiting for answers. They ask about the Paralympics, math relevance and poison ivy. Shit like that.
Aubrey: I don’t know what it is … you know what you could do though?
CD: What? Talk to a manager? Get the number for the building’s construction company?
Aubrey: No. You ought to Google it.
I tried kids. I really did.
4. Where do people in New York City park?
If you’re lucky, not next to a yankees fan.
I checked out nyc.bestparking.com. I found a spot on West 46th street for a bargain $23. Holy hell. That’s groceries for a week! And that’s in Hell’s Kitchen, just blocks from Central Park Zoo. You’re better off selling your car and buying a MetroCard. The car price ought to take care of almost a month’s rent.
Seriously … who needs this? It’s not even worth New York pizza.
5. Can you play a song with your nose?
Sounds like a challenge, girls.
I could. Final answer. Not without props. On my saxophone? No. Can’t get a mouthpiece in one of my considerable nostrils. On a trumpet? Now way. But I believe I could – on my harmonica. Not an Eddie Van Halen solo or Brahms, but possibly Piano Man.
I wouldn’t recommend you play the harmonica directly after I try.
Spongebob has this one on me.