Was about to finish up some work before I make the Friday Dominoes order, when I overheard my daughter Nia singing…
Billie Jane is not my lover / She’s just a girl / And I am the one / But the king is not my son.
It’s funny now. But I’m really hoping she doesn’t come upstairs and ask me what a “lover” is. Maybe I’ll counter with “who’s the king?” and we’ll get stuck in stalemate.
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