Luxury
Joseph and I were walking through a parking lot and one of these bad boys pulls into a handicapped spot.
“Whoa!” Joseph says. “Check out that car! What do you call those?”
It is like the maroon Buick Century we had when I was young, with the torturous backward-facing seat, only bigger, and woodier. I’m running through the names we called them as kids–beaver car (for the wood sides), bubble butt car (for the swollen rear)–and trying to figure out how to answer…
“Luxury!” Joseph says, stopping and admiring. “That’s it. Luxury.”
“You like those wood panels, eh?”
“Man, those just look so nice.”
Indeed.
Feeling Kind of Beige
J: Mom, which of these would you say is more beige? (He shows me two blue crayons. He is coloring in squares of math problems on a bunch of pages that you put together to form one big image.)
Me: Neither.
J: What?
Me: Those are blue. Beige is a light brown. A grey-tan, kind of.
J: Oh no! I made a really big mistake! Oh. Man. (He slides his hand down his face.) I thought beige was a kind of blue.
(He is part of a school project where each kid colors a sheet then the are going to put them together to make a big Disney picture.)
J: Oh well, I guess that fairy’s face will just be blue. Oh man.
A Tough IrrigationÂ
I turned on a light above Annika. Joseph says: It looks like you’re about to irrigate her!
Me: Irrigate? Do you know what that means?
J: Yes. That would be a man made system of water delivery. Yeah, that’s not what I meant… wait… interrogate! Yes, interrogate her. Nevermind.
Yammering Away
Maddie and I went in to wake Joseph up for school. He sat up in bed, yammering away about some detailed something as he took off his pjs. He gets up, still talking, strolls into the bathroom. I’m thinking, “I wonder what age kids start to want privacy?”
Maddie, who has just been standing next to me quietly, pulls me down to her level and whispers behind a cupped hand, “I was not listening to anything Joseph just said!” Joseph strolls back in, still talking, and gets dressed and walks out, still talking. Maddie and I look at each other and shrug, and follow him out.
Reading the Paper
Noah bought the Sunday Washington Post so Joseph could have the comics. Maddie is happily snipping coupons I’ll never use (because many are missing barcodes).
Joseph has already drawn glasses and mustaches on all the Trump pictures and found all the articles that are inappropriate for children and is now perusing death notices.
Go Packers?
J (Flipping through the newspaper): Go Green Bay Packers!!!
Me: Why the Packers? Do you know where Green Bay is?
J: Yeah, England.
Me: Do you know what sport they play?
J: Base…no, football…you can tell by the helmets.
Pea Soup
Maddie: Mom, you know we had pea soup at grandma and grandpa’s? It was good. I mean, yours is good too but…well, theirs is just a little bit better.
Me: Yeah, that last recipe I made wasn’t the best, was it?
Maddie: No. It was not. You really should get their recipe.
When I Grow Up
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Mariah
Me: Hey look! Dad loves this Christmas song. It’s his favorite one.
J: I think what dad likes the most about this song is that lady!
Cookies by Joseph
Joseph came home with a recipe for apple cookies he printed out at school. He has been excited to bake for days. The recipe was two stapled and cut pieces of paper (he cut off the white parts of the page because they were blank). We guessed at the missing part of the recipe and he got started.
He read, measured and mixed everything himself. Then he recruited Maddie to get them on the cookie sheet: “You plop them and I’ll tell you if you need more dough, then I’ll shape them and space them. They have to be 2 inches apart.”
He thought they should bake for an hour but I suggested 10 minutes as a good starting point.
A long 10 minutes to wait…
One swift Tom Sawyer maneuver later and Maddie has begged to do the next batch herself while Joseph has retired to the family room to work on a puzzle.
And the final product! They sure taste healthy!
The proud baker.
Bakers.
Joseph thinks they are delicious.
Declared “World’s Best Cookie”
Faker! (She didn’t like the apples in them.)
But she can put on a delicious cookie face on command anyway.
Then things got silly.
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