“Dad, grandma’s floatin’ in the kitchen,” my five-year-old daughter matter-of-factly said as I’d just settled in to watch the game. “Her foot’s caught on the damn ceilin’ fan again. She’s just spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round… “

“Language,” I gently scolded my youngest before motioning with the TV remote for her to hand me my unfiltered smokes, pork rinds, and beer. “Is your brother at her yet with the sling shot?”

“Na. He’s lookin’ for it.”

“Did you hide his glasses?”

“Yes, I’m not stupid.”

“We’ve got some time then,” I said in a dismissive tone while waiving a dismissive hand. “Leave me alone and go play in the traffic or somethin’.”

My little girl then moved to the foot of my La-Z-Boy, blocking with her misshapen head my hockey-viewing line of sight. She effectively stole my attention, standing between my elevated leg-and-a-half, while glaring at me with her lazy blue eye.

“Dad, she’s FREAKIN’ me out. I can’t sleep with grandma floatin’ all about the house. She literally goes bump in the night.”

“What did I say?”

The girl paused. I waited. My youngest was perplexed.

“About what?”

“Is the old broad floatin’ or is she levitatin’?”

“Levitatin’,” my daughter sheepishly answered. We then regurgitated in unison a universally-applied phrase often said by me in the house, “… like the ugly witch that she is.”

“Correct,” I responded while looking around my little darling and gently pushing her to the side with my detached prosthetic leg.

“Remember, words matter. You float in water but you levitate in air. Speak right or people will think we’re a bunch of freaks.” I startled her then when I screamed at the referee.

“Stupid f’n zebras. Always on the take. Have another donut you f… ”

“Dad!”

“What?!?”

“What about grandma?”

We then heard an explosive splat, followed by a soggy thud striking the kitchen floor.”

“Problem solved,” I chuckled. “The boy’s gettin’ real good with that thing, even without his glasses. Be a good girl, would ya, and help your brother clean up the mess.”

“Not fair! How come I have to clean his up? Mom never makes me.”

“Not fair, nothin’. Earn your keep. Your mother’s workin’ so do as you’re told or you’ll clean up the old lady yourself.”

I watched my little lazy-eyed freak sulk her way to the kitchen before I returned to my reality-distracting addictions. One of these days, I thought, one of these days for sure. That old bag has got to go. But until then…