Yes, parents, that Thomas. It went something like this: Mrs. Phisch: "Who are the blue engines? Thomas, Henry, and Edward?" Me: "No, Gordon's blue. Henry's green." Her: "Are you sure?" Me: "Yes." Her: "No he's not! You're thinking of Henry!" Me: "No, I'm thinking of Gordon. He's blue. He pulls the express." Her: "Come back this up!" She refers to the godsend of modern television, TiVo, upon which many an episode of Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends has been preserved for the little phisch. She currently has the little phisch in her lap, together in one of the easy chairs, and the remote is across the room. Me: "I'll back it up, but you're wrong. Gordon's blue." Her: "Want to bet?" Me: "Sure. What's the bet?" Her: "The loser has to drive to get ice cream." She refers to soft-serve sundaes from Carvel. We pinkie-shake to affirm the bet. I back up the episode in question to the spot she ordains as telling us which engine the one I say Gordon is. I await my hot-caramel sundae after the tyke goes to bed. Update, 8:45 PM CST: A sly one, that Mrs. Phisch. To bathe the little phisch, she changes in to pajamas and sweats. She then uses this as an excuse to not go get ice cream. She barters a trade that I make the ice cream run, while she cleans up the tyke's bathroom, traditionally my post-bath duty. I retain full bet-winning gloat authority. And I do want a hot-caramel sundae...