Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I'm so confused.

Small Fry just came into the den (early dismissal day here) with two formerly-glow sticks that used to be attached to stars at the ends, so that they could be magic wands.

The stars have long since broken off, about the same time the sticks lost their glow-ability.

"Mommy, can you watch me?"  Small says.


"Okay, watch me play!"


"Don't look at me!"


"You can't watch!"

If you say so.  I clamped a hand over my eyes, spreading my fingers so I could at least see the computer screen.

"You hafta only look at youwr computewr."

Well.  I feel less bad about cheating.

"You hafta do what I do, as I do it."


She taps out a rhythm on the sticks.

"Did you heawr dat?"


"You have to guess again."


"Don't watch me!"


She holds the one stick up to her mouth, like a flute.

"You can't see!"


She "plays" a tune.  "What was dat?"

London Bridge.  I may not get all their homework, but I know that tune.

"Yes!  Now listen to dis."

She plays the same tune, only slightly lower-pitched.

"What was dat?"

London Bridge again.

"Was it da same?"

Same tune, yes.  Different keys.

"Now dis."

She taps out the rhythm for "London Bridge" again.

"Was dat da same?"


And she ran off to play.

Glad audience participation wasn't a huge requirement, 'cause I have no idea what I was supposed to be doing.

1 comment:

  1. Tonights Post, a bit for you. There are so many little things our Mom's did that they assumed we never noticed that are a stark and happy memory in that life.

    Never forget that in your day to day. . .


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