don't yuck my yum

So, I was going to post about our grand adventure in Mexico, or the generally crazy here-there-and-back-again month of July, or the odd combination of a love song in Afrikaans followed by a rockin' ditty about bacon* which we snuck in at a friend's friend's acoustic show just before our departure....but I have a little blurb on NPR to thank the pearl of wisdom I'll take home from this particular trip out west. I'm in the Boulder area with Andi, on the way to Valya's baby festa and some city time with Raquel, and Andi and I heard this today on the radio.

In brief: Zen Buddhist single dad trying to be a good father realizes he sounds like a blowhard telling his 5-year-old that life is full of little disappointments when said child is crying over a vanilla cupcake. Child zings dad over dinner when dad, observing child painting ketchup on his dinner plate with broccoli, says "eww...", and child stoically replies:

Don't yuck my yum.

Thank you, pre-school. I am now armed with a reply the next time someone eww's me for eating sour cream & onion potato chips with cottage cheese as dip. Or tuna casserole or lasagna for breakfast. (Old high schools habits die hard, even as they decrease in frequency).

* in which bacon is rhymed to good effect with fakin', followed by the line "come on baby, i gave you cash / don't you bring me home that trash" and the chorus "he takes his bacon serious / 'cause meat is nothing to joke about"...if memory serves.