the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Because I love to play the organ

Every episode of “Sesame Street” features a segment where the Count Von Count reveals the number of the day by playing an ascending series of notes on the organ. On very special episodes the Count is joined by the Countess who howls, “STOP!” when the Count sings the number. This is quickly becoming my favorite part of the show, and not just because he pronounces seven as seben and eleven as eleben, but because the Count and the Countess are so obviously in love. How long have they been together? 300 years? I imagine that they’ve made it that long because they have learned to shut up and accept how the other one drives. Either that or the Count gives a killer foot rub.

At the beginning of the segment the Countess lovingly refers to the Count as Mein Schnitzel and then he refers to her as something that sounds like SUCC-A-TORE. But that’s not a word, or at least it’s not a word I have been able to find in an English dictionary. Jon and I have been performing extensive Google searches on this word and variations of it to figure out what the hell he’s calling his wife. We’ve come up with nothing, so every time we see this segment I pause it to point out that he’s calling her a Succatore and that we have to find a way to go on living without knowing what one is.

Jon, however, is convinced that he’s calling her a Suck-A-Toe, that it’s the Count’s way of saying that the Countess sucks a mean toe.

Are you blinking? I KNOW. I’d pay him money to bring this up tomorrow over turkey at his mom’s house.

First of all, I really don’t want to think about the Countess sucking a 350-year old toe ON SOMEONE ELSE’S FOOT. Second, “Sesame Street” is not the type of show that would discuss the private bedroom activities of its characters, although you know that when Bert and Ernie aren’t on camera they are living out chapters one through five of R. Kelly’s “Trapped in the Closet.”

Yesterday we were arguing over this again when Jon suggested that I ask the Internet if it had an opinion. I pointed out that the Internet thinks that crayon is pronounced CRAY-ON, so how could I trust the Internet’s opinion on anything? And then he said, “That’s a sign that the Internet knows exactly what it’s talking about.”

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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