Wednesday, February 2, 2011

The Snow Day Child

There is no kinder child than the child who has just found out that school is cancelled because of snow.

It's true. My 12 year old is the greatest proof of this statement. Once the news gets out that it's a snow day, this is how it goes.

First huge, elaborate declarations are made. Outrageous things are said like "I've never loved you as much as I love you now. You're the best father in the world."

Past mistakes are suddenly rectified: "Hey Dad, you remember that thing I did back when I was 5? I'm really sorry about that."

He hugs his 7 year old sister. IT'S TRUE. He kisses her gently on the forehead, then he hugs her. There is no pinching involved. No shoving. No verbal jabs. It's peaceful, loving and semi-genuine.

Imagine what could happen within this window of complete and utter joy? Huge cities could be erected. World peace could be achieved. The possibilities are limitless.

Yes, the Snow Day Child is a wonderful child. For about 10 minutes. Then everything falls back in to place and moves forward as it should. But damn, those 10 minutes are a great 10 minutes.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


My seven year old is amazing. She really is. And it's not just me who says that. My different personalities say it as well. No really, other people say she's amazing too. She's amazing because of the things she does for her age. For example, she files things. She has a recipe box in which she keeps recipes and other things, like little booklets she makes and postcards she has received from her teachers while on Christmas break.

Anyway, she was going through her recipe box last night and she pulled out an envelope. Inside were four round cut-outs from magazines. We asked her what they were and she explained that they were rubwristheres. What, we asked? Rubwristheres, she said again while she continued to shuffle through her recipe box. We still didn't understand, so we asked her to show us what they were. She pulled one of them out and she rubbed it on her wrist. "See" she said "they're perfume and you rub them on your wrists." My wife and I looked at one of the circles and in the middle were the words Rub Wrist Here. They were perfume samples cut out of magazines. And on the envelope that contained these well-cut-out perfume samples were the words Rub Wrist Here. See what I mean? Amazing.