Non-verbal sarcasm

Tonight the kids rallied to read bedtime stories together.  It was some story about self aware crayons who voiced their grievances to the child who colors with them.  Well, one of the crayons felt overused and complained that he was too short and stubby.  Childhood memories of my own flashed before my eyes of the disappointment of having to use a crayon with a flattened head, and the joy of getting to use a fresh crayon with a perfectly cast writing tip... and then it came to me.  I bolted up, pausing from the story, to explain what I had just invented while reading: crayon heat molded sharpener.

It would look like a pencil sharpener, but instead of a blade to shave off pieces, inside there would be a heated metal mold in the sharpener that would perfectly melt and recast the head of the crayon to it's original, out of the box condition.  You could write with crisp line and you would never waste any of the crayon sharpening it.

Genius, right?  Certainly the best thing I've thought of all day, and the kids were surely to be impressed.  I waited form them to grasp the enormity of my invention, as this would change the quality of coloring-time for children for generations to come.  I was already thinking of how to patent the idea while I waited for them to form an awe-struck response.

That is when Jack, face emotionless, slowly raised his hands in the air and started clapping, but not good clapping.  He clapped so slowly that it was abundantly clear the message was something akin to "fantastic, dad, can we get back to reading the story now".

If you need someone to vet your great idea, look no further than a sarcastic 7-year old to deflate your sail.

Brad

Flu Shots, Cookie Crumbs, and Fancy Footwork

I love Saturdays.  I love that I don't have to get up early.  I love that we don't have to rush through our morning.  I love that the kids get a chance to relax and play.

Unfortunately, today was a day that I'd set aside to be sure that the kids got their flu vaccines.  I do not get a flu shot - every time I get a flu shot, I get the flu.  And so, I'd rather take my chances.  But Brad always gets the flu shot - every year.  And he's pretty insistent that the kids get theirs, too.  Now that they are a little bit older, I was planning on having them get the FluMist to avoid the needles they hate so much.

Except when we got to the doctor's office, there was a sign saying they were out of the FluMist.  So we turned around and headed to a local drugstore to see if they had the FluMist.  They did not.  They also did not give flu shots to people younger than eight.  At this point, I'd done a lot of driving back and forth, and now my poor, little people were going to have to have a shot that I'd tried to prevent in the first place.  Nobody was happy.

Hannah whined and fussed a bit, but she was brave and volunteered to go first.  With a few snuggles, it was done and she was fine.  Jack was a different story.  The nurse nearly had to call for reinforcements and there was a lot of crying, screaming, and restraining in order to give Jack his shot.  I was a hot, sweaty mess by the time it was done and it was only 10:15.  Not the best way to start the weekend, that's for sure!  My favorite part, by far, was when the receptionist offered my little lovelies a sticker.  They usually assume that Hannah would like a princess sticker or a pony sticker.  And then when she doesn't say anything, they'll continue to list the other choices.  Today it was Spiderman or Jurassic Park.  Hannah's eyes lit up and she quickly echoed, "Jurassic Park!" which made me smile.  So her and Jack both got a dinosaur sticker and we were off.

Luckily, everyone seemed to recover pretty quickly.  In the afternoon, the kids invited some neighborhood friends over to play, and they ended up playing a game of hide-and-seek.  Our ever-clever Jack decided to purposely mislead his friends by laying a trail of dinosaur fact cards up the stairs to his room, and then deftly hiding somewhere else.  His plan worked swimmingly :)

The kids watched movies in the basement and I had a chance to take a late-afternoon nap, which was lovely.  In the evening, Hannah wanted to have a sneak-attack dance party with Daddy.  So she and I climbed the stairs, crawled into our room, and played a little Meghan Trainor and Justin Bieber.  We danced our little hearts out while Daddy watched, and then we caught Hannah's fancy-footwork on video because we just couldn't resist:

Happy Saturday, Folks!

Not So Soft

Tonight we were all excited when Daddy came home from work.  It's Friday, it's been a long week, and take-out was being delivered any minute.  Hannah and Daddy were snuggling on the couch until she decided to get up to go do something.  So I came on over and started to snuggle into the spot she'd left.  She turned around and looked at me like I was encroaching on her territory when Brad informed me that I'd taken her spot.  I sat up and made room for the both of us, and then I pulled Hannah up and said, "You know...before you were born, I was Daddy's girl...who's Daddy's girl now?"

She smiled a great big smile with her little chipmunk cheeks, giggled her tee-hee laugh, and said, "Me!"

Brad was rubbing on her tummy and remarked that she may even be softer than me.  Since, whenever I ask the question, "Why do you love me so much?" Brad always replies, "Because you're soft," I knew he was trying to tease me.

So I said, "I'm pretty sure I'm just as soft as she is."

And precisely at that moment - Hannah reached up and ran her fingers along the wrinkles on my forehead.

We had a pretty good laugh at my expense, that's for sure.  How can little ones be so perceptive?

A Proud Boy

Today, as soon as I picked Jack and Hannah up from daycare, Jack had a story to tell.  It seemed he was just bursting at the seams to share something about his day, and he just couldn't wait to tell us a story.

Apparently, the Jamestown visitors came to Jack's second grade class today.  They come every year and they bring artifacts from the Jamestown settlement and share with the children how the settlers and the Powhatans survived way back when.  They always use student volunteers, and the children are always engaged and enjoy the presentation.

Jack was chosen to de-hair a deer skin.  The presenter allowed Jack to choose between two tools: a rock and a clam shell.  Our smart, little man quickly chose the clam shell and set to work, and he told me later that the presenter was very pleased with his choice and that he was able to remove a lot of hair from the deer skin with his tool of choice.

When Jack told the story, he was grinning from ear to ear.  He was so pleased with himself, and as soon as he finished telling me and Hannah, he announced that he couldn't wait to tell Daddy when he got home.

And he wasn't kidding.  Usually the kids run to greet Brad when he comes in the door.  But typically, storytelling doesn't follow until dinner or bedtime.  But tonight?  As soon as Jack ran to greet Brad, he blurted out his story as fast and as accurately as he could - he wanted his dad to be proud of his choice.  And, of course, Brad was impressed.

Brad has instilled a love of all things survival in Jack, and it's good to know that should we ever be in a survival situation, my two boys will take good care of me.