J, talking to a friend of mine last week: My dad’s birthday is Friday and we are getting him underpants.
Today, outside Kung Fu, where a dying pigeon was seen floundering near the door:
Heidi (a friend of mine): Maybe the pigeon got hurt.
C (Heidi’s son): Maybe it is old and dying.
J: My mom is 37.
This kid. He keeps me on my toes. Maybe I need to pay better attention to him. Especially when he is being really, really quite like he was tonight. I walked into the kitchen to find this:
Those are oats. An entire can of them. (You know, those big, tall, family size ones.) He’s singing Happy Birthday. And making a cake.
And let me just say, for the record, that as much as I felt like I should admonish him for this, he was a) really, really cute, b) totally occupied and therefore c) staying out of any other sort of trouble that he can cause in a flash. Hence, the video.
We were staying with some friends last week on our Big Northwest Vacay, and they had this awesome old school rotary phone that actually works. Z took it off the hook, and here’s how the conversation went:
Me: A, can you hang the phone up, please?
A: How do you hang it up?