Now isn’t that precious?

A conversation with Tyler, who was putting on his pajamas with lighting speed:

 

Tyler: “I’m getting dressed really fast. Cause you have to get dressed fast to put out fires.”

Me: “Does that mean you want to be a fireman?”

Tyler: “No, I want to be a policeman. Just like Daddy!”

Me: “So if a fireman puts out fires, what does a policeman do at work?”

Tyler: “He punches bad guys!”

 

Ah, the tender age of five…when all things evoke awe and wonderment, right down to police brutality.

This entry was posted in 5 Five.

Today’s crisis…

After two years of watching me put on makeup, Anna decided to take a bottle of whiteout and smear it across both eyelids and in her eyelashes.  I’ve tried warm water and no tears baby shampoo, but not with much luck. Any other suggestions, other than black lipstick and facial piercings to match??

Sorry, Sucka

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Reassurance:  stepping into an elevator, watching the steel doors clamp shut, and as you ascend, glimpsing a sign: “In case of fire, use stairs.”  Above it, a picture of a stick figure running down a flaming staircase.

By the second floor, I found myself imagining my last resentful thought if I were to ever find myself trapped in a burning elevator:  Why the hell didn’t they hang that sign OUTSIDE the door?

I’m wondering if Walt Disney felt the same way when cigarettes came out with warning labels in 1966.

Only one thing never changes…

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What I remember about the ocean:  jumping waves, sand castles, collecting seashells, majestic seagulls, fresh salty air, writing really bad poetry to the sound of rumbling waves, falling asleep on the way home, going home to a hot shower and a head full of memories.

What I now understand about the ocean:  endless packing and preparations, two-hour commutes with restless children in the back, lugging ten times your body weight to and from the car, chasing two-year-olds off everyone else’s blankets, rats with wings, fighting highway traffic while everyone else snoozes in the backseat, going home to vacuuming, laundry and a bathtub of sandy kids.

Still, at the end of the day, with grit under your nails and salt in your hair, you realize the magic can never be lost.