Two Pictures

I was going to post these about the time G-d decided a whole bunch of us in LA County needed an urban camping trip. They aren’t related to any event in particular, I just love them both and thought I would share . . . .

This one, because it makes my heart all mushy . . .

And this one because it makes me laugh hysterically . . .



G designed this several weeks ago when Grammie was here. He picked the fabrics. She did the cutting. He did the arranging. She helped him do the sewing.

He designed the entire quilt on the diagonal by himself. As he picked and placed and rearranged the squares he kept saying, “Look, Grammie. It’s symmetrical.”

The boy likes patterns and symmetry . . . he isn’t nearly as concerned about the actual fabric colors and prints . . .

Gotta love a boy who isn’t afraid to play with fabric.


A Lizard’s Tale

Those of you who know my son know that he isn’t exactly gentle when it comes to handling the various creepies and crawlies that he collects.

So when he started hollering from the back patio the other day and I walked out and saw this . . .

and this . . .

I had to cringe.

“G . . . did you pull off his tail?”

“No, Mom! He played his trick on me. He dropped his tail so I’d think he was dead.”

I had no idea that a tail dropped by a lizard continues to flip . . .

and flop . . .

and wiggle around for a full ten minutes.

Very disturbing.

G had to keep it . . . it being the tail. The rest of the lizard made a successful escape, much to G’s dismay.

“It’s still alive, Mom.”

“Uh, huh.”

He even poked holes in the Ziploc® so the tail could breathe. How thoughtful.

And I’m sure you all are just itching to accept a dinner invitation now that you’ve seen my silverware in action.



Tonight we had chicken ranch burritos for dinner.

G sat at the table, his burrito clutched in his left hand, happily eating away, left elbow on the table.

I told him to remove his elbow from the table.

He complained that he couldn’t eat with his elbow down.

I told him he could . . . elbows do not belong on the table.

G looked at me, put his right hand on the table, put his left elbow on top of it and continued eating.

If there is a loophole that child will find it.

I never knew raising a child would require contract law experience.

Maybe he will work for a giant corporation in their legal division one day. I hear they pay big money to people with a talent for exploiting loopholes.

Meanwhile I’m going to go practice giving explicit instructions.


A Few G Things

This afternoon G asked me what he could do to be in the newspaper . . . I told him he could either do something really smart or really stupid . . . to which he replied:

“Remember when I made chlorine when I put pepperoni in water and left it there and it tasted like sink (tap) water? Can you call the newspaper man and tell him about that?”

Initially I told him that probably wouldn’t get him in the paper. He wanted to know, “What are more options?”

I told him he could rescue more cats from trees than any other person in the world. “That would take years,” he said.

I later changed my mind and told him that if he did indeed make chlorine from water and pepperoni it would probably get him in the paper; in the meantime I would write about it on my blog. He still attempted to persuade me to call the newspaper man . . . he even told me what to say, “Can you call him and say, ‘My son, who is only six . . . ‘” I told him if the newspaper man reads my blog and decides to write about the chlorine pepperoni he is welcome to do so.

An hour later this same child wanted to know how tall a stack of 583 microscopic ants would be.


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