"These Toys are Eat Soap Separately"
"I'm drawing skella-bones, they protect your heart"
"when you twist things beginst each other the get mixed up"
"EMERGENCY! Cold bread! Cold bread"
Aug 10, 2015
I painted things when my little ones were coaxed to the creek to catch craw-daddies and get mud behind their ears. I had the sun on the back of my neck when I stretched it looking over the rise of the little road to see the corn reaching up from the glen with golden fingers into the August sky. I rested my paintbrush in the dirt when my son ran back to camp with a tiny dead fish in his water wrinkled fingers. He asked me to cook it for him. When I told him it was too small to cook and made him throw it back into the creek I saw him steal a taste. He licked it's white belly and then threw it overhand into the clear water where I'm sure it settled to the bottom and found it's way into the bellies of the craw-dads. All the while behind me, my daughter changed from her soaking wet mud-shoes into my dry sandals and was charmed away to another campfire by intriguing musical instruments.
Aug 4, 2015
I asked the kids to get themselves ready to run a few errands with me today. A mere three hours later, my eldest had taken a full shower, was coiffed and ready to go. My youngest was also dressed and ready making sure to wear his plastic fake monster teeth, an inside out long sleeve hoodie he's outgrown with the hood up, matching blue socks under flip flops, and plaid shorts. Great job kids, thanks for getting yourselves ready. Yes, we went into the store like this, luckily he tired of the teeth.
Jul 30, 2015
I took the kids to see the TMNT movie in the park downtown last Friday. To the disappointment of the people in the lawn chairs behind us, Jack rolled, kicked, ran and did somersaults for 90 minutes. I'm not even sure he actually saw any of the movie.
Jul 26, 2015
These are the thick days of mid July filled with humid sunscreen and stinging bug spray. Every cool pool of water has tiny feet begging to sneak in, though the well worn swim suits, sun faded, stretched from chlorine and slightly grayed on the underside from lake mud are at home on the floor of the front hallway. Left over fireworks and grilled beer soaked meats waft through the neighborhood replacing the tiger lilies and lilacs sweet redolence. There is barely time for the free waterpark ticket, the theme park coupon, the ten hour air conditioned sleep and the last canoe trip. Back to school supplies loom in frigid grocery store aisles.