Now on to a kicky 1960s pop song about waiting for love...not celebrating an African holiday.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Despite some here and there work jaunts to Milan, I don't know a lick of Italian. This may explain my minor error in belting out Kwanza, Kwazna, Kwanza while getting dressed this morning. Overhearing my show-stopping performance J asked me to repeat the little ditty and I, of course, enthusiastically obliged. Without missing a beat and doubled over in laughter, my
nitpicky dear husband noted the proper lyrics were Quando, Quando, Quando. Details aside, I believe more people should name their children Engelbert Humperdinck these days. Sure beats the heck out of Apple, Destry, Honor or Pilot Inspektor.