“Wheeere the boys are . . . someone waits for me.” I have this affliction that may be in my DNA because my sister has it bad. Any word or phrase can start a song; a song you haven’t heard for decades but there is it. I see ‘where’ and Connie Francis is in my head before I can even think.
And that phrase means nothing to me. I don’t want to be where the boys are, YUCK! And I’m pretty convinced that no one is waiting for me. If they are, they won’t find me because I stay home most of the time.
This habit of the brain may be contagious. I have a friend with it, she’s the one I hadn’t seen in 50 years and we’ve reconnected. She said when she was young she wished she was in our family. She remembered my dad sitting at the piano cracking jokes. Maybe she picked it up from us.
She said her daughter complained that she found a song in almost every conversation. Oh, it can be very frustrating when you are trying to talk, I know.
I said my sister has that affliction so I’m going to test her (my friend).
“I was on my way to Parkhill and saw two bald eagles sitting in a tree!”
I could see my friend starting to twitch, she chewed on her tongue and rolled her eyes. Finally she could take it no longer:
Well, its not a song but its a singsong. They’re just as bad.
You know where I’m going today? No where!
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “where.” Start your post with the word “where” and write whatever comes to you. Bonus points if you end your post with “where” too.