I have great answers, and pretties in my hair and pretty hair, and I make her go a lot of places.
30 July, 2006
I’m in Wisconsin for the weekend for a yearly family event. It was a lot easier to swing when I lived in Chicago and could drive up any weekend I wanted. Now that there’s only a few chances to see my family per year, we all plan our visits together and this was the weekend, so despite the zillion work and play things I have going on in DC, here I am.
Why? Because niece J. (5) and nephew D. (3) are finally old enough to remember us visit to visit, and so lately the visits have moments like this one:
Putting on our shoes to go outside.
J: I love you.
Me (heart 120% warmed): I love you too, J.
J: I think next time you come for my birthday this fall I will write you a card.
Me: That’d be nice. But you know, you can write one anytime, and mail it to me.
J: No, I can’t! I don’t know your phone number!!
I am trying to record a DVD commentary track of D. and J. watching the Star Wars movies. Their parents, being good, moral and right-thinking people, have exposed them only to episodes 4, 5 and 6, and I totally recommend having your faith in the movies restored by watching them with toddlers at your earliest opportunity. Today we watched the green one, which has robots (of course), Han Solo in carvonite and the princess in a costume as a boy to help him escape from Java the Hutt, who eats gross swimmy things that we are NOT having for dinner ’cause that’s GROSS, Aunt Techne. D. showed me the cover of the blue one (my favorite), which has Dark Vader who has a red lightsaver, Dark Vader’s ships, and snowwalkers (his favorite).
D. has a stuffed Dark Vader doll that sleeps with him. It talks. Every now and then in the middle of the night when all is quiet, he will roll over and from his room you will hear the ominous breathing, or a muffled “You don’t understand the POWAH of the DARK SIDE.” His mom tells me that it’s what he brought for a teddy bear day at school. The school knows them, though. This is the brother of the girl who, when asked her favorite song, once said “Nightmare by Alice Cooper.” (If you are all “huh?”: Muppet Show DVDs.) Once again we must marvel at Jim Henson’s genius. 15ish years dead and he’s still warping young minds.
This post’s title is J.’s description of me. Also here is a picture she drew of me. (You might not recognize that it’s me, because of the bows in my hair.)