Alliteration

Isn't it delightful?  I love me some alliteration.  My favorite alliteration memory (don't we all have one?) is when I was driving along with my young children and we were listening to the They Might Be Giants Alphabets of Nations album.  The song "Pictures of Pandas Painting" was on and I said to Braeden, "This is alliteration."

There was a long pause and he said, "Do you mean all the trash on the side of the road?"

Sometimes I miss driving around with young children because they are a delight (except when they need a nap or are tired of the car).

Braeden was always curious and always trying to make sense of the world.  We were at Ikea the other day and I saw a dad and his young son and the little boy was asking lots of questions and I told Adam, "That's Braeden at that age."

Just feeling sentimental about my now huge and grown son who used to pepper me with questions on the daily.

I digress from alliteration though....

Last night Marie Louise and I were working on family history for "our" family which is really just her family but I'm patiently waiting for us to find a shared ancestor.

One of her ancestors married William Wellman from Wallingford.  Perhaps we'd been sitting at the computer for too long but it cracked us up.  Picture Marie Louise with her British/Australian accent saying, "I can just imagine at the wedding, the minister saying, 'Well, well, well, William Wellman from Wallingford who wants to wed.'"

Then we found his son.  "Guess what his name is?" I asked.

"William?"

"Yes."

"Born in Wallingford?"

"Of course."

"Well, well, well, another William Wellman from Wallingford."

In a world full of sorrow and strife, there's alliteration.   It feels like a sort of compensation.