Back to school, back to school, to prove to dad that I’m not a fool.

KARI: What are you doing?

MIKE: I’m looking up what the principal at this school looks like, in case I see her tomorrow.

KARI: That’s smart. So you’ll be at the school tomorrow?

MIKE: Yes. Now I have to try to remember her name. Principal Brady.

KARI: You need a mnemonic device.

MIKE: I was thinking, Brady like the guy who was hurt when Reagan was shot. The Brady Bill.

KARI: Wow, that’s . . . a lot more complicated than I would have gone. Have you heard of a little thing called The Brady Bunch?

MIKE: I bet she doesn’t want GUNS IN HER SCHOOL.

KARI: I bet she is A LOVELY LADY.

MIKE: Look at this woman. Do I want to imagine her in day-glo bellbottoms? I think not.

KARI: Oooooooh, good point.

MIKE: The Brady Bill it is.

KARI: . . . Surely there is something better.

MIKE: Oh, I don’t know . . . what about that quarterback?

KARI: *gasp*

MIKE: You know, the really handsome one.

KARI: Take that back!

MIKE: What’s his name again? Oh, that’s right, TOM BRADY.

KARI: The foul besmircher!

MIKE: Is that really the appropriate insult?

KARI: Do not speak his name in our house!


KARI: Take it back, take it back!


KARI: We hates him! Take it back, precious!

MIKE: I should never have gotten you to start watching football.


MIKE: Good grief. I take it back.

Much later.

KARI: What was the principal’s name again?

MIKE: Ummmm . . .

KARI: Principal Beaver?

MIKE: NO! Principal BRADY!

KARI: Yikes. Sorry about that.

MIKE: Yeah, thanks a lot.

KARI: You? Are so screwed.

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