funny ha ha

Yay North Carolina with your badass primary today. Go on wit’ ya bad self. Zoe and Lucy and I went to vote before school this morning, and they enthusiastically helped me push the touch-screen buttons on my electronic ballot. I would say “touch the box next to Person ABC” and they would do it, clearly delighting in their power. I saved the president choice for last, just to savor it a little — the first presidential primary in my long NC history to actually matter, and matter a lot, at that. Plus, although I knew who I was going to…

(I) Zoe: “Mama. In school yesterday we watched a movie about Philippe Petit. Me: “Who is Philippe Petit?” Zoe: “He walked on a tightrope between two big buildings. Did you know him when you lived in New York?” Me: “Sadly, no.” Lucy: “Did you know The Snowy Day won a gold medal for best drawing? Really. It did. It’s on the book. A gold medal. It’s called the Cawldercat.” Me: “Yes. I love that book. It’s been one of my favorites since I was a little kid.” Pause. Zoe: “Philippe Petit won a Cawldercat Medal too.” + + + +…

(Third installment in an apparent series.) Lucy has just cut herself with her scissors. Bactine and Band-Aids have been applied. The tears have stopped. What remains is Lucy’s desire to hear stories about times that Bob and I have cut ourselves with scissors. I tell her about the time I cut my thumb with an x-acto knife. I tell her about the time I cut my hand with a butcher knife while slicing a bagel. Zoe tells her about the time she cut her own-own hand in her own-own town when she was chopping cucumbers with her own-own mom.* Lucy…

Our children are both perfect angels. All the time. Except sometimes they’re, um, not. Lately, Lucy has been using some of her allotted “non-angel hours” to throw tantrums. And when I say tantrum, I don’t mean “I’m a two year old and I’m asserting my independence so I won’t let you put me in my car seat, I insist on getting in by myself” tantrums. I mean “I’m a five year old and I can hit, kick, scream, throw things with good aim and become inconsolably furious in 2.2 seconds if you dare to tell me that ‘no’ we’re not…

Bob and I are sitting in the living room. Zoe and Lucy are back in their bathroom or somewhere near it. Suddenly we hear a crash and the girls laugh loudly. Lucy (running out of the bathroom): “Whoa!!! Now that was a experiment!!!” (She looks up and sees us.) “Mama. Me and Zoe are gonna need smocks!!!” + + + Illustration from one of our favorites, The Orange Book, by Richard McGuire.