let freedom ring

   

  

  

Katie and I were holding hands, walking through the parking lot of our local mall this weekend when she broke into song. She’s a break into song kinda girl.  

  

My country, ’tis of thee, 

Sweet land of liberty, 

Of thee I sing; 

Land where my fathers died, 

Land of the pilgrims’ pride, 

From every mountainside 

Let freedom ring!  

   

As she got to “Let freedom ring” it struck me funny, so I did my best to imitate a ringing phone. 

  

“Brrrrring.” 

“Brrrrring.” 

  

 She looked at me like I had three heads. She looks at me like that a lot.  

  

 “Answer the phone, Katie.” 

  

She was still looking at me like I might have finally lost it, but she went along with the gag. She pretended to put a phone to her ear. 

  

 “Hullo?” 

  

 “Hey, there. It’s me, Freedom.”  

  

I watched the corner of her mouth curl into a nearly imperceptible smirk. 

  

 “The no underpants kind or like liberty?” 

  

Oh 

  

My 

  

Lord 

  

Honestly, I’d write fiction, but I could never make up anything better than this.  Damn I love my kids. 

  

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