4:52 p.m.: “Is it PRONK! yet?”
“No, Moonie.”

5:31 p.m.: “is it PRONK!” yet?”
“Five and a half weeks, little dude.”

6:47 p.m.: “Has it been five and a half weeks yet?”
(sigh)

He was clearly missing his red, white and shiny street marching band, so I took Moonie to the Extraordinary Rendition Band‘s weekly rehearsal tonight, where their bleats and beats floated along the river, mingling with the sounds from nearby bars and clubs and attracting delighted onlookers and scattered applause from passersby.

He was enthralled and danced away as they practiced. He thinks they played extra good because they had a nude little dude in the audience tonight.

I’m just glad he’s stopped asking about PRONK! for a bit. There are only so many cookies and rainbow-colored objects in the world for me to distract him with.