Continuing with the theme of math concepts, kindergarten style. We had a hilarious conversation this evening. As you’ll see, I really walked into this one:

Dad: Remember when we were at the garden store and we were picking up those big bags of dirt? How many bags of dirt do you think you weigh?
Lad: I don’t know.
Dad: You weigh a little more than one bag of dirt.
Lad: Like one and a half?
Dad: Not quite, but close. So if you weigh a little more than one bag of dirt, how many bags of dirt does daddy weigh?
Lad: Two and a half bags.
Dad: That’s nice, but it’s more than that.
Lad: Four and a half bags?
Dad: That’s closer. It’s actually over six bags.
Lad: Yeah, painfully close to seven.

In honor of Potomac primary night, I recite this passage from the P.D. Eastman children’s classic, Go, Dog. Go!

A big dog party!
Big dogs, little dogs,
red dogs, blue dogs,
yellow dogs, green dogs,
black dogs, and white dogs
are all at a dog party!
What a dog party!

Go, Democrats. Go!

We celebrated the new year by taking the lad to the movies with a bunch of his friends. We saw Enchanted. For my part, I’m grateful both that we weren’t going to see Alvin and the Chipmunks, and that the movie was sufficiently ironic about its genre. (I’m not a fan of the typical Disney animated features. Pixar, yes.)

The kids were thoroughly engrossed, though. Our son’s good friend could not contain his urge to dance along as the cast frolicked in Central Park. And in the climactic scene– [spoiler alert… the rest will be after the break] More »

Most of the time I feel like a natural at fatherhood. But there are those moments when I hear myself talking and I have an out-of-body sensation. Could that voice saying these words really be me?

Example from dinner tonight: “No matter good you think it’s going to taste, I do not want to see you licking the table.”

This morning the lad expressed the extent of his gratitude.

I am thankful for everything in my life. Everything in my life except for photography. Too much click-click, flashing in my eyes.

Our son still isn’t hip to all my clever daddy tricks yet. Tonight he “made” brownies from a mix. We put the pan in the oven, then sent him off for his bath while they baked. As he anticipated going back to the kitchen to sample warm brownies, he asked if he could have two brownies.

Dad: Sure. You may have two small brownies or one big brownie. Your pick.
Lad: Ooo! One big brownie! That’s what I want. [Sings] Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!
Dad: Good choice!

A test of the development of his perception in the conservation of volume in solids. A very yummy test.

The following note was found on the outside of our bedroom window this morning, accompanied by a dollar coin. The lettering on the note was tiny.

Dear nice people in the house, I’m leaving some money to pay back your mommy and daddy. Please don’t be scared. I am a nice fairy.

Love,
Dilly, your tooth fairy