In the afternoon we'd return to Dad's apartment. Dad had his own things he was working through, and wasn't used to having children running underfoot, so often he'd keep to himself, leaving Tuck and I to generate our own entertainment. If we got tired of watching Sunday afternoon television on the tiny black-and-white TV, we'd look through Dad's small record collection. All we really had to go on were the jacket designs, so we assumed that most of them weren't worth listening to. The West Side Story score, however, that had a photo of a young man and woman looking happy, holding hands and running down the street. The music, it turned out, was to our liking, and the album became a perennial favorite. "Officer Krupke" was a great sing-a-long.
We're distoibed, We're distoibed,
We're the most distoibed.
Like, we're psychologically distoibed!
Hm. I'm going to have to think up a better punchline if I want to be published.