As promised last week, today’s strip was partially drawn by my 7-year-old daughter. Last year my son helped with an entire strip, and I promised that I’d give her the same opportunity. So here are the results.
The people across the street will not teach me piano. They told me ‘no’, even after I had put on a clean shirt, combed my hair, and walked all the way over there. I thought it would be like asking for a cup of sugar, like neighbors sometimes do. “Will you teach me piano?” I asked nicely.
Welcome back, everyone! Time to get Ben & Winslow back on the schedule!
On this day, I had reached the limit of my tolerance. It had gone too far and I now felt compelled to express my disdain for the ubiquity of cheese that has spread like a noxious malignancy throughout our culinary culture. Yes. You heard me. CHEESE! Fromage. Parmesan. Pec-er-ino roman-o. Cheddar. Prov-a-lone. Monterey Jack. I spit out these words like profanities.
My brother Jim called to tell me he was about to bid on a 50-acre island in the middle of the Illinois River.
“We want to scale down,” he said. “Do the Thoreau thing. You know—Walden Pond.”