Oh, the Humanity!

So, as many of you loyal fans (all four of you) can imagine, after the roller-coaster ride of yesterday's court hearing, we were all in the need of some comfort food.

Comfort food, to the McCandless Clan happens to currently be RAXX Barbeque & Brewing Co. Justice is a ribs fan, Lil loves the pulled pork sandwich, and I love the hard pear cider.

Everyone is a winner.

About five minutes after sitting down, Justice starts complaining that her head hurts. Not a headache, mind you, but her head in the back, roughly the base of the skull. Lil and I did a quick huddle and decided that Justice was just a little miffed by having to say goodbye to her friends with whom she had played with for about eight hours.

Yeah, only eight hours of play.

We're real monsters.

Justice then turns on the water-works. It's amazing that a 9 year-old can do this at any time at the drop of a hat. I applied my usual Is-Justice-Sick test, which means I tickle her under her chin. She giggled and that confirmed our suspicions, nothing was seriously wrong with Justice.

But, unlike the usual pattern where Justice is caught performing for an audience, this proof didn't abate her protestations. The food arrived, and in a strange turn of events, Justice refused to eat.

No, seriously.

The child, when not saying "I'm bored" or "That's not fair" regards her third favorite saying of all time to be "I'm hungry." She eats like a teenage boy, one meal, constantly throughout the day into a pit only slightly larger than a black hole.

This is when my wife saddles up her horse, cocks her Henry rifle, sets spurs to flanks and rides to the rescue.

"Justice," she says in a stern-yet-what-the-hell-are-you-thinking tone, "Take your ponytail out."

I arched one eyebrow in my standard, what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look.

Lil, in standard fashion, ignores me.

"But it HURTS!" Justice protests.

"Methinks the lady protests too much," some guy in tights and holding a skull retorts.

"Justice, it hurts in the back of your head," Lil persists in such a manner that would have put Admiral Farragut to shame.

You see, Admiral Farragut was the man who yelled the now famous "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" line. That's why it's funny.

Justice, tears streaming down her face, eyes seeking solace from any source, begins to comply. A moment later the tears stop, Justice rubs the back of her head and is sated, if not satisfied with the outcome.

I now urge every one of you good readers to write your congressman and request, no demand a warning label be attached to each and every ponytail older imported into the United States.

Or perhaps attached to every child.

I leave the choice to you.