Michael: What are nits?
Me: Lice eggs.
Michael: Little baby lice?
Michael still does not have lice. Rejoice.
Michael
Well Played, Child
It is after lights out and Michael comes down stairs to his parents. “What is it, Michael?” “I was just wondering whether you could sing me a lullaby; it’s ok, if you say no.”
Basking in Reflected Glory
One Sunday, the Princess did a second reading, Mr. Waffle did a bit at the start of mass and all the children did prayers of the faithful. I didn’t do anything, though, as Mr. Waffle pointed out, “We’re not the ones who need practice with our public speaking.”
As Mr. Waffle was doing his bit, a neighbour in the seat behind poked me in the ribs and said, “He’d be perfect for RTE.” I assume, a compliment. The American priest said mass; we’re getting used to him. At the end, he singled out herself for particular praise, “I would like to compliment the young lady who read the second reading; it’s a difficult text and she read it beautifully.” Everybody dutifully clapped and herself was mortified, though pleased. This kind of announcement in the church is, of course, the kind of thing I normally despise but, like many another thing, it’s never so bad when you’re involved yourself.
I think I have reached the high water mark in church engagement. From here, it’s all downhill. Indeed, Michael has recently begun pumping the air when the priest says “Mass is ended” which is unwelcome.
Contraband
A friend asked me for book recommendations for her great nephew who is the same age as Michael and Daniel. I consulted with the boys. They had somewhat different recommendations but top of the list for both was Captain Underpants. I reported this back. My friend told the boy’s mother who said, “No thank you, my son has a reading age of 12 and doesn’t need to be reading about farts and poo.” I was sorry all round – sorry for the little boy and sorry for my friend and sorry for me. The boys inquired whether the Captain Underpants had gone down well and I told them my tale of woe. Michael pointed out anxiously that one of the books which features Dr. Poopy Pants has very little farting but I felt that he was missing the point. He took it very much to heart. The next time he saw my friend, he took her aside and whispered in her ear, “I can give you my Captain Underpants books and you can smuggle them to your nephew.”
Tell me, do you have small boys in your house? Where do you stand on the question of the wonderfulness of Captain Underpants? A google search tells me that the internet is somewhat divided.
Like a Fine Wine etc.
Daniel and Michael are reading the Narnia books and they are using the editions I got myself at their age which are falling to pieces due to extensive re-reading over the years. Michael asked me whether they were valuable. “No,” I said, “they’re not first editions or anything, why do you ask?” “It’s just that, if you had them when you were a child they must be really old.”
That’s right, that’s why they’re printed on vellum.
Related: Michael is on “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader and has taken to running around the house shouting “poop deck, poop deck!” See how each generation gets new meaning from these books?
Music to his Ears
Herself: Do you remember that Peanuts cartoon when Schroeder knows all about Beethoven?
Michael: Yes, he knows his date of birth and death and all the things he did in his life.
Daniel: Yes, like how he made himself deaf from listening to his own music.
