Ok, bearing in mind that my daughter is only 5 1/2 years old, I would like to point out that the following concept may not have been grasped even by adults.

We are driving back from the lovely Westport pool today and I had the following interchange with the Boy Child and the Girl Child.

BC: Pappa, are lifeguards nice?

Me: All the lifeguards I've met have been nice so I'd say that they are nice.

GC: But, Pappa, that doesn't mean anything. [I knew immediately what she was getting at here and I was blown away]

Me: Why not?

GC: Just because you've met some nice lifeguards doesn't mean that all the lifeguards in the whole world are nice.

I was really stunned. She's just 5 1/2 and here, it was clear, she was objecting to my generalizing about lifeguards as a class based on my limited personal experience. And she was certainly right to do so, I think.

I'm so proud of her.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:01 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Yesterday, the Boy Child was flush, rich, comfortably well-off. He got some coins out of my uncle's pockets. He clutched the coins in his hot little hand, looked at the Viking Bride and said:

I are the money man! But the money man has to pee. Can you hold my money?

Nice to see that money hasn't altered his sense of trust.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 06:43 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Very gently, tenderly, with some small confusion in her voice, the Girl Child tries to help me confront some of the inevitable facts of life.

I took the Girl Child and the Boy Child out for a drive on Sunday. We drove some of the back roads in Fairfield, CT, the next town over. Fairfield is lovely. Lots of old houses.

The Girl Child starts kindergarten come the autumn. She has been singing, “I’m going to kindergarten, kindergarten here I come. They’ve got a lot of higher education there and I’m gonna get me some”. Great excitement, you see. She knows that she is going to have homework. We were so informed and in turn we warned her. We told her that she would not need a desk yet because she would be doing her homework at the kitchen table where we could keep an eye on her. Really, what kind of homework do they give a kindergartner anyway?

So, back to Sunday and our ride. I spot a for sale sign on an old Federal style house along with a hot pink tag sale sign (link to real estate site, if you want to see what the house looked like). I should have a bumper sticker: “Warning, I brake for this kind of crap and I pull over and park on the side of the road as safely as I can but you should still be careful.” Long, but safety is job one, you know. Anyway, we pull through the gates and wander about. There it is. An old school room desk and chair. The chair has the initials bored school children carved on the seat with their pocket knives when you could still bring knives to school. The desk has a hole for the old ink well. It was perfectly sized for a small child. It was also only $25. I didn’t even try to negotiate. I just asked them to mark it sold while I dashed home to obtain a check. They were happy to hold it.

While driving back to the house, the kids and I had the following conversation:

Boy Child: Girl Child, IÂ’m gonna be sad when you go to king-a-garden. You not gonna be there with me at home anymore.

Me: And IÂ’m going to be sad, too.

GC: Why, pappa? YouÂ’re at work anyway.

Me: Because IÂ’m not ready yet for you to grow up and it seems like you going to school is the first step in your growing up.

GC: [tone: puzzled, tentative, and gentle] Pappa, you know that time has to change, right? I mean, I have to go to school and grow up, right?

And there you have it. Even my daughter realizes this. Its just me who wants to hang on to the past. She was very sweet about it, though.

And she loves her new desk. It has a dark varnish on it that she notes will go well with her skin tone when she has a tan. We got it up to her room and she immediately put some paper in it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:44 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I used to think it was just that she was 5 going on 13. I was way too conservative in my estimate. She's past her teenage years already. Tonight, while having dinner with my parents who came up to help us do a couple of things around the house (I bribed them with beer, burgers, and unrestricted access to the kids), my mother asked which of the ice creams we were serving was sugar free. And the Girl Child spoke:

Girl Child: Grandpa? Nana is allergic to sugar. . .

Grandpa: I know.

GC: Which is unfortunate.

Silence reigned for a moment as we all processed that remark. The Girl Child quietly continued with her ice cream.

Then, later tonight, I threw her pj's to her. It was not a good throw but she caught them just fine.

Me: Good catch! It was not a good throw.

GC: Pappa, it wasn't about the throw; it was all about the catch. [pause] It really wasn't a very good throw but it was an excellent catch.

Like I said. 25, at least.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:12 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Saturday began without direction, without plans, without any ambition other than to have no plans, no direction and no ambition. We were planned out, the Viking Bride and her dashing consort (that'd be me, in case you weren't sure), and still somewhat tired from the trip. The children and I were enjoying a quiet breakfast together en trois when I happened to notice a small advertisement in the local paper for an event that evening. I seized on it as a sign from above, as inspiration striking, and so, in a move not necessarily calculated to endear me to my bride, I picked up the phone and invited my parents to come out with us that night. Then I bought me some tickets.

Now, before I get to the main event, taking this as it came that day, we first had to hit the pool/ beach, as the weather was gawgeous. So we did. And then came naps for the kinder. And then, why then we headed off to bring the children to their first ever minor league baseball game.

Go, Bluefish!

There is something magical about minor league baseball. It was a lovely summer night, not too hot, cooling breezes, cold beer, hot dogs, and splendid seats five rows behind home plate on the first base side. We also had a view of the train tracks so the Boy Child could continue to shout, with great excitement, TRAIN!, every time a train went by. We had hot peanuts and the kids sampled cracker jacks for the first time. It was also kid hat giveaway night, which both puzzled and delighted them. The mascot was not as big a hit -- the teeth on that fish were just a bit too long for the comfort of the Boy Child.

But just sitting there, teaching the kids to yell, batterbatterbatter, swing, batter, was worth it. Even my father had a good time.

There is something wonderful about minor league ball, with the potato sack races and spin around the bat until you're dizzy races, and the giveaway Ct. Light and Power t-shirts they fling into the stands. Something so downright delightfully hokey, such a fun combination of not too serious marketing with the national pastime. I don't know, just sitting there in the stands of this intimate little stadium was uplifting. I tell you, baseball is healing.

My wife wants to go back for our next date night.

By the way, I think I had the nicest compliment from the Girl Child as I tucked her into bed last night. I asked her if she had a nice weekend (we also went to the pool and then a local fair to ride the rides on Sunday -- that we me petrified of heights climbing up the huge slide stair case to ride down with the Boy Child -- he was fine, I was terrified) and she said: "Pappa, it was the best weekend ever!" Take that, working parent guilt! Hah!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:29 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 As an adolescent girl-child, we went to the AA ball field in my home town quite frequently. The big draw was the San Diego Chicken. The park was always crowded for that particular fowl and I got to sit on the grass just to the left of the opposing team's dugout. Oh. My. Nice. . .um, pants. I'm so glad you had a good time. I've wonderful memories of summer evenings and free hot dog night, myself. Missed ya. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at July 10, 2006 01:00 PM (cyksu)

2 Good show. Isn't it great when they say things like that? That is one bellicose looking fish, I might add!

Posted by: MCNS at July 10, 2006 04:50 PM (QVIhH)

3 Very cool. Maybe I'll run into you at Harbor Yard one of these weekends. I actually haven't even been to a game yet this season, but I intend to soon. I'll be the guy yelling things like "Aw, come on! Yoko Ono has better pitch control!" and "Geeze, this game has more foul balls than a rooster convention!" Good times.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at July 12, 2006 09:05 PM (bjxZN)

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