My daughter has devised a conspiracy theory all on her own: I am secretly Chris Sligh, one of the 24 finalists on the hit television powerhouse that is American Idol. She told this to my wife this past week as they were curled up in the chair watching the singers do their thing. Although to hear them tell it, the boys did quite poorly this last week.
I have night classes on American Idol nights. I leave the house with backpack in tow and hump off to class at MSU. Sophie has concocted this notion that I am not really going to class at night. In actuality, I am packing my clothes and a curly brown wig and heading off to Hollywood to compete.
Quite a hypothesis from a 6-year-old. I am thankful that she thinks I am as skinny as chubby boy Sligh. I hope she never loses that perception. My wife could not wait to tell that bit of good news.
I have night classes on American Idol nights. I leave the house with backpack in tow and hump off to class at MSU. Sophie has concocted this notion that I am not really going to class at night. In actuality, I am packing my clothes and a curly brown wig and heading off to Hollywood to compete.
Quite a hypothesis from a 6-year-old. I am thankful that she thinks I am as skinny as chubby boy Sligh. I hope she never loses that perception. My wife could not wait to tell that bit of good news.
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