Usually Overheard at the Wright Househould stars one of the two tornadoes (one of whom is growing into a lovely summer day.) But today, the Cherubim gets his turn.

So, yesterday evening, when the Cherubim got out of the bath, instead of getting dressed, he skipped around naked for a while (luckily his sister was downstairs doing her homework with Uncle Bill) repeating over and over in a drawled sing-song tone:  "Are yooou okay?" "Are yooou Okay?"  "Are yooou okay?"

Then, when I finally lassoed him to put his shirt on, he answered the question in a perfectly conversational voice: "I’m fine."

This was the same day that he spent the afternoon as follows:

First, he ran outside about 50 times and yelled at the top of his lungs for all the neighbors to hear: "Ouch, my brain!"

Then, he ran outside and yelled about 20 or 30 times: "Ouch, my foot!"

Then, he ran outside and yelled some 15 or 20 times (until dinner intervened): "Ouch, my butt!"

Can’t tell you where this came from, but I wonder if it correct verdict is: too much Spongbob.