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Coturnix Jr. is off to the Boy Scouts camp this morning. This is the first time he's going to be gone away from home for longer than one or two nights. Mrs. Coturnix was quite nervous about it. She was working night shifts past three days so it was my job to make sure that Junior had everything ready and packed on time, inluding medical forms, camping gear etc.

On Friday, Junior and I went shopping and had a great time together. We got everything except one item. That one item was not that important, but we went to several stores in hope we would find it. Don't tell anyone, but we even entered the dreaded Wal-Mart for a few minutes, although I swore I would never set my foot in one again. Fortunately, they did not have it either so I did not have to give any money to that nasty business.

In the end, tired and dirty and hungry, we quit trying and went home. We showed off all our loot of the day. And, what did Mrs.Coturnix say when she found out that one item was missing? "I knew I could not count on you!". Well, playing with language is my hobby, so I responded: "This has nothing to do with counting" to which my kids started rolling on the floor laughing. Lucky me. Everyone just relaxed.

That was Friday afternoon. Now it is Sunday afternoon. In the past two days, Coturnietta used the phrase "This has nothing to do with counting" at least two dozen times in a variety of contexts. And she does it with a special pronounciation, trying to impersonate me. I have a feeling this phrase is going to become one of those inner-family-circle code phrases which only we will understand the whole meaning of. But anyway, that has nothing to do with counting.