Josie and I got in an argument.
It's kind of exciting and horrible, all at once. And I don't mean that we got into a disagreement. We've had plenty of those. We got into a full-fledged argument. To wit:
I had submitted to her maniacal requests to play with the idiotic animated animal game on babymamma's computer and we had gone to the screen with all the sleeping animals in the pet shop, who you can wake up by jabbing the keys -- which is frankly weird and disturbing, if you think about it, sort of like your own animal torture screen -- and I was asking Josie to identify the colors of the various animals.
"What color is the cat?" I said.
"Yellow!"
"Right! What color is the chick?"
"Yellow!"
"Right. What about the frog? What color is the froggie?"
Josie paused for a second then said, "Yellow!"
"Yellow?" I said. "Are you sure? Isn't the froggie green?"
Josie furrowed her brow and said, "Yellow!"
I pointed to the froggie again. "That's yellow?"
Josie nodded. "Yellow," she said firmly.
"Wait a second," I said, playfully. "Isn't that froggie green? Isn't that color green?"
Josie shook her head. "Yellow!"
And it wasn't like she was just contradicting me. You could see that she simply disagreed and wasn't going to kowtow to my ridiculous notion about the frog being green. It was an insult to her intelligence.
I felt kind of like how I did when I appeared on "Hannity and Colmes" -- which is to say not just incredibly sexually turned on by Sean Hannity and his big, beefy sausage bod, but also confused as to how to overcome such dogged rhetorical surety.
Is this what awaits us at the station of the cross know as the Terrible Twos.
Please, if you're going to answer, try to lie in a manner that will make us feel better...
