Beezus can't fail.

Let me preface this with the revelation that from here on out, the future terror of the world will be referred to as "Beezus". At happy hour (where else?!?) last week, while discussing the Tall One's curious knowledge of Judy Blume's books, we shifted to the Ramona Quimby books and when I said "Beezus", we howled with laughter and immediately christened the feh-tus Beezus. This also helps to avoid the following things:

- We have no idea what we're having and knowing the obstinence of both the parents, we're most likely not going to get a good shot at the ultrasound next week. Obstinence x obstinence = obstinence squared!

- We're also not revealing the name until the kid is breathing oxygen and not fluid into its lungs.

- I refuse to call the feh-tus by the name we choose until it's born. I have my reasons, and none of them make me sound like a very nice person.

All that being said, today I began Beezus' musical education. With The Clash. It was a quick decision.

There are so many bands that Beezus needs to listen to: U2, the Stones, Simon & Garfunkel, Coldplay, Cat Stevens, Jack Johnson, Led Zeppelin, Ben Harper... there are not enough hours in the day. So, I start with the Top 5, and go from there.

How can one not like The Clash?!? Not my offspring. I think things are off to a good start.