When Sister #2 announced to the kidlings that they were going to attend a Superbowl party Max immediately rebelled and begged to go to Aunt Jodi’s, because he knew I wouldn’t be watching the Superbowl.
As soon as he walked in the door I warned him that we would be watching the halftime show.
“Why?” He whined.
“Because we are Minnesotans and so is Prince,” I said.
“So. . .” he said.
“He is funky.”
“I don’t care about funky.”
As the afternoon wore on we watched the Puppybowl, made some Marble Magnets, sang some Ben Folds, and watched the Eep Op Ork Ah Ah episode of The Jetsons.
Then it was time for his Royal Funkiness. Jaycie and I turned off all the lights and turned the TV up as loud as it could go, forcing Max to try to cover his ears while playing his Gameboy.
I, of course, sang along to every song while Jaycie danced at my side. As he started each song I would let out an excited “oh-ho-ho-ho” while running in place and clapping my hands.
“You really like that little guy, don’t you?” Max asked.
“Yes, we’re funky!” I shouted over the TV.
“Is that what you call that?”