Row, Row, Row Your Wayward Son...

The eight year old takes guitar.

This means that once a week I sit in a waiting room with a bunch of other parents and listen to the cacophony of ten different kids practicing a variety of instruments at the same time. 

Cacophony: A harsh discordant mixture of sounds.

That's your big word of the day. 

This afternoon I was listening to:

Carry on My Wayward Son,

O, Come All Ye Faithful,

Boulevard of Broken Dreams,

and 

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

all at the same time. 

To pass the time I usually play Words With Friends.

It beats staring agitatedly at the table in the waiting room.

See...

The table is completely covered in a messy heap of magazines.

The OCD in me cringes every time I see it. 

I don't really even have any OCD in me but this table makes me OCD.

I usually try to straighten the magazines but the different shapes and sizes and conditions of them makes this hard. 

First world problems. 

The other option is to actually read the magazines. 

Valley Babies.

Reading this isn't a good idea. 

I've got three kids and I'm way to laid back for this rag. 

For instance one of the articles is called: 

"Practical Gifts for New Parents"

My gift suggestions would be something along the lines of:

Hire them a sitter

and 

buy them some formula.

Not so surprisingly that's not what they advocate.

Speaking of rags I listened to the Stuff You Missed in History Class podcast on Nellie Bly this afternoon and it was awesome. 

I highly recommend it.

Nellie Bly probably wouldn't have been bothered by that messy table. 

Hmmm...I'll work on it.