Jane asked Erin to tie a string to the end of a stick. She then pretended to go fishing off the end of the kitchen table pier.
Jane: I got one! I got a fish!
Erin: Wow! What kind is it?
Jane: A trout!
Erin: A Rainbow trout?
Jane: No! A fish one! (looks at Erin with a mildly scornful expression) It swims in the water.
It's a big tent
After breakfast this morning, Jane sought refuge of a blanket tent in the living room.
Henry: Can I come in?
Jane: Do you have to poop, too?
Henry: Can I come in?
Jane: Do you have to poop, too?
Happy Monday, Witch
Erin just called me at work tell me about her morning. For a mid-morning snack, she broke down and fed the kids some of the chocolate cake she and Jane made yesterday.
Jane insisted on a candle in her's. Once Henry saw, he had to have one. Erin topped them off with a rousing chorus of "Happy Monday To You."
Later in the morning, Erin got the kids to help her sort out some of our coins. Jane was particularly interested in the lady on the back.
Jane: Who this? Is this a mumma? (gasp!) It's a witch!
Henry: (laughing) It's the Witch of England!
Jane insisted on a candle in her's. Once Henry saw, he had to have one. Erin topped them off with a rousing chorus of "Happy Monday To You."
Later in the morning, Erin got the kids to help her sort out some of our coins. Jane was particularly interested in the lady on the back.
Jane: Who this? Is this a mumma? (gasp!) It's a witch!
Henry: (laughing) It's the Witch of England!
'cause she is living in a rice cereal world...
...and she is a rice cereal girl.
Alice is into solid foods. Where did the six months go?
(Cereal!)
Alice is into solid foods. Where did the six months go?
(Cereal!)
A yellow helicopter by any other name would still be pretty cool
A bright yellow Cormorant search helicopter flew over our house yesterday. Jane followed its flight with wide eyes.
"Wow," she declared, her mind searching for the right word to call this thing. "A yellow-copter."
As it flew up and over, her neck strained up, up, up, and backwards until there was no more backwards left. She fell on her back.
"Wow."
"Wow," she declared, her mind searching for the right word to call this thing. "A yellow-copter."
As it flew up and over, her neck strained up, up, up, and backwards until there was no more backwards left. She fell on her back.
"Wow."
It was an accident. I swear!
Erin washed. I dried. The kids finished their desserts.
I flicked my towel in mid air.
crack!
I make a very pleasing whip sound, if I do say so myself.
Erin: I used to hate it when my brother did that to me. I never could get him back. I could do the twisty twirl, but the towel never cracked for me.
Me: (twisting the towel) I never found twisting it made much difference...
I gave it the tiniest flicks.
CRACK!
Erin: OW! Owowowowowowowowow!
Me: I am so sorry.
Henry: Show me how!
I flicked my towel in mid air.
crack!
I make a very pleasing whip sound, if I do say so myself.
Erin: I used to hate it when my brother did that to me. I never could get him back. I could do the twisty twirl, but the towel never cracked for me.
Me: (twisting the towel) I never found twisting it made much difference...
I gave it the tiniest flicks.
CRACK!
Erin: OW! Owowowowowowowowow!
Me: I am so sorry.
Henry: Show me how!
Cold beer and punchlines
Erin and I used to make up stories for Henry about the animals on a farm. When he was one- and two-years old, he would ask for a new story every day.
The stories always ended the same way. After the dramatic conclusion (the farmer's wife emancipates the bee trapped in Poombra the pony's tummy, Nice Snake learns to ride a bike, Barney the barn owl and Jovo the dog learn they can play together at dusk), we would always say, "So they all had a nice glass of juice, and took a nap."
The stories stopped about two years ago, when Henry discovered chapter books.
This morning at breakfast, I told Henry the story of my Friday-night curling match. I had never curled before, and really enjoyed it. Near the end of the story, Henry's eyes grew wide as he recognized a familiar cadence.
Me: When we were done, we all shook hands and said, "Good game." Then we all went up to the bar and had a glass of beer.
Henry: ...and took a nap.
The stories always ended the same way. After the dramatic conclusion (the farmer's wife emancipates the bee trapped in Poombra the pony's tummy, Nice Snake learns to ride a bike, Barney the barn owl and Jovo the dog learn they can play together at dusk), we would always say, "So they all had a nice glass of juice, and took a nap."
The stories stopped about two years ago, when Henry discovered chapter books.
This morning at breakfast, I told Henry the story of my Friday-night curling match. I had never curled before, and really enjoyed it. Near the end of the story, Henry's eyes grew wide as he recognized a familiar cadence.
Me: When we were done, we all shook hands and said, "Good game." Then we all went up to the bar and had a glass of beer.
Henry: ...and took a nap.
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