Thanks, Mr. Schwartz

We used to play a game, my younger brother and I. He was Gilligan. I was the Skipper. He would lay on the top of the back couch cushions. I would lay on the couch itself. He’d lean over, holler, “Hey, Skipper!” and then fall on me.

Just like on TV.

Over and over.

And over again.

And how many times did we sing this song?

Lost count.

And how many times was this particular scene re-enacted at our house?

Again, lost count.

Thanks, Mr. Schwartz.