Perdiddle

We were riding in the car last night to crash a party when I felt the solid "thunk" of fist-hitting-bicep; a sensation I'm all-too familiar with.

My leggy blonde consort followed with an excited "hey look look look!!! Three perdiddles in a row! Three perdiddles in a row!!! LOOK LOOK!! THREEE EPEEEEERRRDIDDDLEEEESSSS!!!!I've never seen that before!" and sure enough - three cars flew past us back-to-back; all missing a headlight.

In the realm of perdiddle likelihood - thats extreme.

Growing up we didn't follow "perdiddle," in our family we had "popeye" which makes a whole lot more sense. Spot a missing headlight, call "popeye" and you got a free shot at whoever was nearest. Its simple, fun, somebody always got hurt, and it aggravated your parents - thereby meeting all the important criteria for a road game.

Having been homeschooled for 18 years I'm always on the lookout for schoolkid details I may have missed so, naturally, I was excited to hear tales of this NEW road game and I was eager to be instructed in the perdiddle rules.

It's pretty disappointing. Basically, if you call "perdiddle" you get to lean over and kiss the other person sweetly on the forehead.

...annnnnddd thats what you get for growing up in a house with three women and no brothers - kissing games.

So, to be funny, when the three perdiddles flew by I said "Hey, next time we see three in a row like that I'll pull straight into the center of the next intersection and we'll get engaged on the hood of the truck!"

She arched an eyebrow and said "Oh, uh huh."

Then, we both turned to face the redlight and, in the first truly blatant, documented, example of how much God hates me; the next three cars through the intersection were all missing a headlight.

"Oh. Uh huh." she said.

Perdiddle.