I am trying to adapt, trying to figure out how to exist in quarantine.

I have to tell you honestly, that for many, many years my Children didn't quite know what I did for a living.

I didn't want them to know that I was in show business.

I wanted to keep them distant from all that.

I thought that would be healthier.

So for most of their childhood, up until two weeks ago, my kids thought I was a long haul trucker.

Yeah, true story.

I would come home every night.

And just before I walked through the house, I'd put on a trucker's cap and I'm walking on Go.

That was a long hole for this year, trucker.

And then I'd spit out what I thought was tobacco juice.

Um huh.

Someone's playing the piano downstairs.

I had a whole opening here that I've never been thought.

A parent would get annoyed by their child practicing the piano too much.

But every time I start to try and do something, they play the piano.

Okay, now it's a song.

And why can't you spend time on tick talk or something?