I am down in the basement with PJ. I show him an old picture of Kathleen. She is about 18 or 19 in the picture.
"PJ, do you know who that is?"
"Do you think she is pretty?"
"Uhmm, no, not really."
"Well, I think she is pretty. Are you sure you don't know who that is?"
"Oh." Big pause. "Is she a teenager?"
"Yeah, she was when we met."
"Dad, you MET mom?"
"Yeah, what, do you think she we just knew each other forever?""
Big pause. "No."
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Monday, August 14, 2006
Have you ever had a pen explode in your pocket? You know how embarassing that can be?
Well, I had the cap fall off of a highlighter in my backpack. The writing end pressed up against the bottom of the pack, which also happened to be sitting on my lap on the hour long bus ride to work today. The phosforescent yellow ink blotted up the corner of my pack, and soaked through to my pants. Now I look like I have been marked by the game warden. I have this bright glowing yellow clot of ink on my trousers where the front right pocket is. I am going to try and hide at my desk all day.
Had a great weekend. No photos - but we went to Gettysburg and camped with friends. The weather was wonderful and cool. The kids had a great time.
Did I mention it was my birthday?
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Of course, no one admits responsibility. There too smart for that. Except Sam, and trying to get an talking to him is like talking to the magic eight ball. "Sam, did you throw that marshmallow up on the wall?"
"Sam, did you?"
"Sam, did you throw the marshmallow?"
"I want a marshmallow"
"Sam, you can't have a marshmallow."
"But I want a marshmallow!"
Then I just give up. They don't tell you about stuff like this in parenting class. They don['t tell you that you'll have to deal with anonymous marshmallows in strange places.