Fighting the Bad Guys

There's a good pre-summer lightning and thunder show raging outside.  Rumble.  Rumble.  Craaash!

In preparation for the storm, Mr. A decided he needed to fight the bad guys tonight.  The weapons: light sabers (aka unsharpened pencils).  The venue: in front of his mirror.  His assistant: his 7 months pregnant mother sitting on the side of his bed (because standing to fight the bad guys just isn't as easy as it used to be) with her two light sabers as well.

"Mom, sing me my song, while I fight the bad guys."

"What song do you want tonight?"

"Freckles."

I proceed to sing Freckles, the same sweet tune that my Grandpa Barlow sang to my mom and me, that my mom and dad sang to me, and that my Mr. A now loves and has taught to his dad.

I finish the song.  "Ok, Mom.  The bad guys are all gone."

Rumble.  Rumble.  Craaash!  Goodbye, bad guys.  We gotcha!