We were down in Florida over Memorial Day weekend to attend my sister's my pretty pony wedding. The less said, perhaps. . .

Anyway, one night, we were having dinner outside at a barbecue joint called "Slow and Low". Pretty good, actually. Towards the end of the meal, the live music started. It was a singer with an acoustic guitar. He played some James Taylor and then he played some Jimmy Buffet. That prompted the Girl Child to want to ask him to play a song for her. So, she grabbed my hand and pulled me along for moral support. The song he was playing ended and she walked up to the singer:

GC: [Shyly peering up at him from under her too long bangs she quietly asks] Can you please play a song for me?

Singer: [Into the Mic] This little lady has a request! What would you like me to play, miss?

GC: Can you play me a Jimmy Buffet song?

Singer: Sure! What do you want to hear?

GC: Can you play, My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus?

Singer: Errr, [long pause] I don't know that one. I've heard it but I don't know it. How about I play, Son of a Sailor?

GC: Ok. Sure, if you don't know the other one.

GC: [As we walk back to our seats} Pappa, that really wasn't the song I wanted to hear, you know.

I'm sorry I cannot describe the look on the singer's face when he heard her request. No way he saw that one coming.

No way for him to know that the Girl Child thinks of herself as a Parrot Head. No way at all.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:51 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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