Thanks to Hank & Co., both my dear roommate and I went to bed last night with “Will You Miss Me When I’m Gone…From Your Pants” stuck in our heads.  It’s catchy.  It led to me getting up this morning, after the sleep of the dead in which dream-version-of-roommate asked if the griddle cakes* were ready yet, and thinking, ‘what shall I read next?’  This led to ‘well, Annie recommended Peace Like a River…In Your Pants.’  And the consequent singing to self while making oatmeal:

I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,

I’ve got peace like a river in my pants.

I’ve got peace like a river, I’ve got peace like a river,

I’ve got peace like a river in my pants.

And, well, when you put the other verses to the test?  Love like an ocean?  Joy like a fountain?  Perish the thought.

*Miss Pym Disposes features griddle cakes.  I now want a griddle cake.  As it turns out, a griddle cake is not like a pancake, but rather soda bread that is flattened and cooked in a skillet.  Apparently, there is a Society for the Preservation of Soda Bread.  Just in case your felt like joining the good fight.

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