“Use two hands,” I used to say. I don’t have to say it often anymore. She knows when to use two hands. For hugs, for spreading open to the world, for twirling, for riding her two-wheeler.
Two hands to paint bold masterpieces of my heart, and, in measured time, two hands to hold her work back so as to cast a critical eye. Two hands to add a dab, a spot, a splosh.
Two hands hold onto mine because she wants to dance and for her, dancing is largely variations on Ring Around the Rosie.
The kids narrowed it down to each of their personal favorites.
Obsidian
Kuiper (as in Kuiper Belt, pronounced “KIE-Per”)
Astro
My kids are science nerds.
The entire family expressed their displeasure with my suggestions of Loki, Darth, and Ziggy, and even quicker to express their disdain over my suggestion of Matt Damon.
My husband suggested Angus. I was onboard. The kids, because they are nine and five, said it was bad because “Angus” sounds too much like “Anus”
They were protesting too much to hear me mutter all the things “Astro” sounds like.
I’m not a huge fan of pranks. Never have been. I find them to largely be mean-spirited, intended to humiliate.
No, I’m not fun at parties and I will not lighten up. You know who else is not fun at parties? Batman. You know who is probably fun at parties? The Wonder Twins.
QED and amen.
Anyway.
Here, the big April Fools’ Joke is that the jokes in my house were pretty terrible because all pranks were largely driven by my kids. They gave themselves the giggles by covering up the last “ps” on the package of Peeps. Hilarious.
To get into the spirit of things and not be permanently labeled “The Parent Where Fun Goes to Die,” (more…)
