I was too beat to go to the gym last night, especially knowing that Courtney is working, and wouldn't be here to help me get the kids into bed when we got back. Instead, I got the kids into pajamas and let them choose a DVD to watch. When I turned on the TV, it was on Boomerang and was showing an episode of Scooby Doo where Shaggy poorly sings "Swanee River" until he is pelted with rotten tomatoes.
The children thought this was HILARIOUS.
We started the DVD and, as is usually the case, Blake was the only one watching after about 15 minutes while Ava and Jack had wandered off to play. Ava came back into the living room and said, "Daddy, sing Shaggy's song!" Guys, this was a guaranteed sure thing - not just an easy laugh, but a laugh from my daughter, whose laugh is the most infectious sound in the world.
I didn't notice that her hands were behind her back when she asked me to sing. Why would I? It was only once I'd launched into my best Shaggy impersonation that I saw her hands whip around to the front, go into an overhand pitch, and throw something straight at my face. A tomato. More specifically, a wooden tomato from her play kitchen.
As I quickly ducked to the side and listened to it whoosh past my head, I still couldn't be angry at Ava. I mean, she still laughed, and it was still infectious. But I do have a newfound fear for the effects of cartoon violence...