Making Papa Drone More Gangsta

I am at my parents' house for a little rest and relaxation, and my belated birthday dinner. I still feel as if alcohol is seeping out of my pores. The celebratory champagne I have been drinking with my parents probably isn't helping either.

Speaking of champagne, my biggest accomplishment of the day was teaching beloved Papa Drone how to pronounce "Cristal" (he was saying it like "crystal") and explaining that he needs to order it correctly so people will know he's a "baller." This of course led to some confusion because he thought I said "bowler" and didn't understand what ten pins and a bowling alley have to do with champagne. Then after I spelled "b-a-l-l-e-r" out for him, he was under the impression that a baller is a person who goes to balls and makes sure the balldancers have fun.

After sister E and I finished hysterically laughing, we explained that being a baller had nothing to do with bowling or actual balls, and more to do with hip-hop. At which point Papa Drone said, "Oh, like bling bling. I'm going to need some more bling bling to be a baller."

Lesson one of being a baller down. Tomorrow I think I will teach him about grills and caddys, by which of course I mean cadillacs and not people wearing funny little outfits out on a golf green.