It’s no secret to anyone who knew me growing up. I capital LOVED the movie Matilda. While I’m fuzzy on the specific conversation, I vividly remember trying to make a reference to a scene in the movie. It went something like this…

“Remember when she was riding her bike on Matilda?” I asked.

“Riding her bike ON Matilda??!” daddy exclaimed. “Wow, that’s got to hurt.”

“NOOOO,” I whined. “You know what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” he asked feigning innocence.

“When she was riding her bike on the Matilda tape.” (this is back during the land of VHS tapes). 

“How did she get ahold of our tape? I sure hope she didn’t ride her bike on it…we won’t be able to watch it anymore if so!” he smirked.

“DADDY! Riding her bike in Matilda.”

“In Matilda? Did she shrink down and enter her bloodstream?”

You get the point. Daddy loved teasing me by latching onto the literal meaning of what I would say. I’d become so exacerbated that’d I’d glare out the window and pout. Then, finally, he’d drop the act.