fun in threes, sometimes fours
the boy
K and the Boy spent some time rolling around the neighborhood this evening after dinner. One of the countless things I love about K is her own love of childhood joys.
She was on E's scooter, having the time of her life it appeared.
Afterward, we played a bit of soccer.
The Girl was at volleyball practice, so we had to do something to entertain ourselves.
And of course, we had to have a little down time once it was all said and done.
I don't remember where the doll came from -- some aunt or other gave it to us, or maybe Nana. It's fairly lifelike in its size and features. Enough that when we first put the doll's box in E's closet (far back on the top shelf), he fussed quite about about how terrifying it was to think that such a thing was lurking inside his closet.
Today, K got the doll out to practice for a shoot she did for a friend who just had her first child.
As the Boy was cleaning up his room before bed, I noticed the box on his bed and went downstairs to retrieve the doll. I tried to sneak back in without him noticing because I feared a little breakdown when he realized the doll was going back into the closet.
"Oh, are you putting the doll up?" I heard behind me.
"Yeah. Mama was using it to practice pictures with today."
"Oh." Pause. "That doll -- I used to be so scared of it."
The Boy has a love/hate relationship with spicy things -- well, things he calls spicy. Coke is a little spicy, he says, and I guess there is something of a tingle in the flavor, a small little bite from the carbonation. Of course, we drink it so very rarely that that alone might account for it: he's not used to carbonated drinks.
Yet he loves chips and salsa, and he prefers the medium salsa to the mild. And Aldi's spicy salami? He'll devour that.
Today, while out shopping with K, he was insistent on getting some Listerine to try, because he knew it was "spicy."
His verdict tonight? Not too bad. His expression, though, belies his calm proclamation.
We decided today we needed to get out, to take the kids and the dog and go into the world. Our first stop: a new mural downtown.
It took a month to pain this eight-story mural, and it's been in the news a few times.
Afterward, we went for a walk in the ever-growing park downtown, followed by a light dinner.
It was almost like normal times except for the masks, which we left off most of the time as there were hardly any people about.
Today was a day of preparation. Rosol for tomorrow; lots of cleaning; a bit of discussion.
Tomorrow is the Boy's first communion. We're having the god-parents and their families over for dinner tomorrow after Mass.
The beard was getting out of hand.
I'd sworn that I wouldn't trim the thing until we went back to school, back to school for good, not in some awkward, inefficient once-a-week/elearning hybrid. Real school.
When I put on a mask, it looked absolutely horrible.
And it left this awful wrinkle in the beard, a little curl that forced the lower part of the beard to shoot straight out, away from my face like a cowlick from hell.
So there was only one thing to do: let L do what she's been begging to do for some time now. "When you trim it, let's put the mask on and the cut around it.
The results, after the initial trim, weren't that promising. I went in and cleaned it up but never got a real "after" picture.
But she enjoyed doing it, and the Boy enjoyed photographing the adventure.
