One Hand in My Pocket

If you are cruising along and Alanis Morissette's One Hand in My Pocket comes on the radio you know one of two things must be true: either (a) you are in a Delorian and have just crossed the space/time continuum back into 1990something OR (b) you live close enough to Houston to listen to any of their radio stations which all seem to believe that Alanis and Ace of Base have withstood the test of time.

I got one hand in my pocket and the other one is... doing a blind finger sweep to pull things out of Nils' mouth while I screech, "That's not food! What's in there?" Usually it's not food. Sometimes it's candy, in which case he sobs and I give it back. I believe it's the second child's privilege to eat floor candy.

I got one hand in my pocket and the other one is wiping a small child's rear end. And then the floor covered in urine.

I got one hand in my pocket and the other one is making dinner while a baby holds onto my legs and yells. Does he want anything? No, not in particular. Unless what he wants is to hold onto my legs and yell at me while I make dinner. In which case, score one for Nils!

I got one hand in my pocket... and it just found some stale goldfish and old shriveled pieces of gnawed on apple slices in there. Damn, I was hoping it was going to be cash.