Cara and I were out for a walk in her grandparents' neighborhood and we passed by this mailbox. We've seen this thing several times before, but on this particular trip, I decided to verbally point it out by saying "Headless Loon".
I should mention that Cara was in the midst of talking about her father's current preoccupation with classic cars when I blurted those two words out. She stopped talking and looked at me quizzically. Assuming that she just didn't hear me, I repeated myself.
"Headless Loon." An equally perplexed look from my daughter followed. Again, I persisted, "Headless Loon."
"Okaaaaay," she finally responded and continued her discussion about the antique automobiles.
"Do you even know what I was talking about?" I asked.
"Not really. When you say things like that, I just assume that it's old people slang that I just don't understand. I thought Headless Loon was code for convertible or something."
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