the little man and i have spent the past week in the throes of a nasty cold—hopefully the last of the season—that has featured massive amounts of snot and a rattling, rasping, vocal-cord-scraping (i sound like marge simpson) cough.
i have also spent the past week being subjected to endless endless god-why-won't-it-stop prattle about the upcoming nfl draft evey time i try to listen to sports radio or watch sportscenter. one of the players projected to be picked in the top five is a young man named d'brickashaw ferguson. yes, you read that right.
so in my slightly delerious, phlegm-addled state, every time i cough, making the lovely "ah-HUGH-a-hugh!" noise, what i hear in my head is "d'brickashaw!"
d'brickashaw! d'brickashaw!
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