tonight, at dinner, the two year old i babysit: "YOU. ARE. NOT. DEEDEE! YOU. ARE. NOT. ONE OF THE DOODLEBOPS!"
lest you think this was one of those awkward situations where an old person tries to convince a young person that they are "hip...cool...tuka-tuka-tuka-tuka," let me state for the record that:
1. this was completely out of the blue. we had been eating in silence and i had been looking at her brother.
2. i have never, at any time, claimed, insinuated, intimated, or otherwise represented myself to be one of the doodlebops.
3. their cd drives me a little nuts.
below, deedee doodlebop, who i am not.
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