Having kids has fried my brain. That's the only thing I can think of to explain my actions. This morning, the Terrors were eating breakfast, and I was doing dishes. We had a CD of 60's music going, and I was bopping all over the kitchen. I was wigglin' and shakin' and singing at the top of my lungs. I was also wearing blue plaid pj's and bright yellow rubber gloves. Just as I got to the good part of "Witch Doctor" I glanced out my kitchen window.
There, standing with his mouth hanging open, was a complete stranger. I assume he was walking in the back alley, and happened to notice the lunatic in the window. Perhaps he heard the wailing. I don't know, but from the look on his face, I think it's safe to say his morning doesn't generally include "Ooo-ee, ooo-ah-ah, ting tang walla walla bing bang" with coffee.