I had a presidential politics discussion with Griffin this morning, prompted by a question about what the covers of these magazines mean. I explained the idea of a spectrum of beliefs (exemplified by stances on candy consumption, of course, which was well received and understood). Our conversation culminated in Griffin’s written commentary on the big T as a “bad guy” and questions of whether our personal political views are closer to “no candy ever” or “candy all the time,” to which I responded, “it’s complicated.”
Monthly Archives: February 2016
Maggie Round-Up
I had just made Moscow Mules for the adults, and virgin versions for the kids. Maggie said, as she handed Griffin his cup, “Here you go, Griffin! There’s no alcohol in here, but it tastes like there is!” Griffin’s response: “You don’t even know what alcohol tastes like!”
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Me: “Maggie, why haven’t you brushed your teeth yet? I even got your toothbrush ready for you!”
Maggie: “I was just so busy laying on the floor…”
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Maggie: “BOO!!!”
Me: “Oh my! You surprised me!”
Maggie <leaning on the couch on her elbow>: “You see, I’m a hider. YEP! I hide REALLY well!”
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Andrew overheard Maggie singing “Over the Rainbow” to the tune of the Star Wars theme song. Pretty awesome.
Pronunciation
<scene: Griffin, Maggie, and friend, Zoe, sitting at the little kid table having snack. I had just handed Zoe some tea>
Zoe: Thank you, Madame!
Griffin: Madame! Damn! Dammit!
Zoe: It’s DARNit.
Maggie: No, it’s dammit.
Siblings
This morning, per her Wednesday custom, Sarah went to an outdoor workout in the pre-sunrise Minnesota air. (Blizzard last night? Pshaw.) But this post isn’t about Sarah’s well-known bad-assery. Just setting the scene: I’m solo dad.
So at 6:30, I’m down in the kitchen, making my breakfast, steeling myself to shovel the walk and trudge through the very deep snow to school. Griffin comes down earlier than usual — fully dressed — excited for a snow day. (His school was cancelled. Mine was not.) He settles down at the art table to paint some volcanoes. Maggie comes padding into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, and croaks, “Where’s Mama?”
I remind her that Mama vanishes on Wednesday morning. She looks sad and cold, and may burst out crying at any moment. Griffin sees this and says, “Maggie, would you like to paint with me at the art table?” Maggie looks up, but shakes her head… not interested. Griffin’s shoulder’s slump, but then he takes a deep breath, and says, “Ok. Would you like me to read a book to you on the couch?” Maggie considers this for a moment, and slowly nods her head. Moments later, they are snuggled up on the couch reading a book together. And my heart is bursting.