This year I'm having a bit of fun in a presentation with three other friends. We're mixing our presentation content with a "mock fashion show" including music like Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy".
It doesn't take much too push me over the deep end of silliness in the privacy of my own home, and a silly song stuck in my head will do the trick:
- It started out with me answering every affirmative with "Right... said Fred".
- Then it evolved to calling every member of the house Fred. I explained this silliness as an easy way not to get anyone's name mixed up. (Karenna's cousin who stayed over recently found this much more amusing than my own children, and still requests to be called Fred when she sees me.)
- Finally, I have reached the ultimate (or low, depending upon your personal take on silliness) in idiosyncratic Fredliness with a performance I'd like to call Kauffman Dinner Theatre...
We rehearsed our presentation today so "I'm Too Sexy" was all too fresh in my mind. The kids were avoiding their dinner. Jude brought a Stormtrooper action figure to the table, which I confiscated.
Bored out of my mind policing dinner, I took the action figure, who with out a helmet had a bald head and resembled the guy from the Right Said Fred video, and making him dance as I sang "I'm Too Sexy."
You may expect my kids to think their mom finally lost her mind, but they've some to expect this sort of behavior from me (see bullet points above for proof). Instead they laughed hysterically, especially when the Stormtrooper got to shake his "tush".
They wanted an encore. And then I knew I had them where I wanted them. Instead of fighting with them to eat their dinner, Mr. Right-Said-Fred-Stormtrooper-Man shook his little action figure tush in exchange for bites of dinner.
Did I pimp a dancing action figure out on my kids in exchange for them eating dinner? Yes. Did it work? Yes. Did I do any long-term psychological damage? Maybe, but no more than when I called everyone Fred, right?
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