I’m not sure why, but H really likes hanging things on doorknobs, and I’m learning not to contest the practice unless I want hearing damage. I’m not sure when each of these photos was taken, but there have been days when all of the pictured doors hosted their parasitic occupiers simultaneously:
The day after she saw me draw this,
N drew this:
Text in my drawing:
Wise man 1: Hey, look! My way is the highway!
Wise man 2: Yeah, well. Why did the chicken cross the road?
Wise man 3: Smartypants!
Shepherd 1: I’m telling you: I smell a wolf.
Shepherd 2: That’s what you said last night.
Don’t worry, it’s just that Canela was nosing in on a photo shoot by N after she and M made a shelf for the outdoor mud kitchen.
N often “reads” to H kids books, and a while back she started reading Dick and Jane books and others like them, but the other day her reading was really exciting–and it showed on her face, too. With only a little help, she sounded out the “wrench” dressing bottle’s “No high fructose corn syrup” (hearing her get “syrup” right all on her own was the best), and then she picked up the little drinking cup from the bank and figured out “Money View” (“view” was another best).
Proud papi, here.
As M was signing out of school after she and the girls visited my classroom the other week, an assistant principal asked N her age.
“Five,” N said cheerily.
“Oh, you’re five! Are you in kindergarten already or will you go in the fall?”
“I’m homeschooled.”
“Oh! Is your mommy teaching you?”
“I’m doing it myself.”
H isn’t quite there yet, but it’s coming:
So maybe it is cool that Michelle Obama can dance like a mom, maybe because she is one:
But it’s also way cool that the other night, while awaiting our family ball that never really got off the ground (N was going to be Bella and had named H Cinders), I spiffed up and proved that I can dance as good as any parent trying to make his daughters’ evening:
