Two nights ago, Gwen went to a Halloween party held by one of her fellow students. When I dropped her off, I noticed that there were about forty or fifty kids there already, and more cars pulling up, so I asked the parents if they needed help. They insisted they were fine, Gwen insisted that I stay, so I stayed. I don't know why, but after an initial foray into the basement on her own, Gwen seemed to have little interest in doing anything except sitting on my lap. Now, admittedly, she may have been hot from her Halloween costume (an Iguanadon costume made from a sweatsuit.) Maybe it was the shift out of daylight savings time. The thought even crossed my mind that she might be plain old bored -- most of my parties have activities scheduled from start to finish, and this was more free-form. This last theory may hold the most water because she did ask after we had been there for half an hour, "When is the party starting?"
Anyway, she just seemed tireder and more bored and finally, as she lay limply on my lap, I said, "Honey, would you like to go home?" We were still an hour from the supposed party end (heck, people were still arriving), and just when I thought she might agree, someone said the magic word: pinata.
I have never seen anyone come back from the dead so fast. She practically fell down the stairs in her haste to get to the basement level of the back deck. She didn't want to swing at the pinata ("How can I hold my bag if I am holding onto the stick?") but once the paper ghost did break, she was right in the thick of it, elbowing much bigger kids out of her way.
When the chaos was over, she came running up to me and shouted, "Mommy! Mommy! I got toys, and candy, and I filled my whole bag! LET'S GO HOME!"
So we did.
Last night, our Karate school had Halloween parties in lieu of typical classes. Xavier had a pretty good cough going, but I figured that since it was supposed to be a "slow" class, maybe he would take it easy. Evidently I had not had enough coffee yesterday, because there is no such thing as a "slow" anything where Xavier is involved.
In any event, a good time was had by all, and as I was leaving, I jested to the instructor (or, as Xavier calls him, "Constructor"), "Sure, we'll be spending the night in the emergency room, but it was worth it!"
So, four hours later, in the emergency room, Xavier was gasping for breath, and we learned that even though the ER at our local hospital is even busier on a Halloween Monday than on an April Friday, you get ported through much faster if your kid is coughing on everybody. (Seriously, in April we were there for five hours, while last night it was a simple three.) Even though he could barely breathe and he threw up in a garbage can, Xavier was still a charmer, and the nurses and the doctors all wanted to take him home. He even charmed the folks on the other side of the curtain that partitioned the Observation Room we were in, and they couldn't even see him.
Anyway, he wasn't a whole lot better today, so Adam got to go on a quest for a nebulizer that was covered by my insurance. The pediatrician says that this may be a precursor for asthma, but it is too soon to tell, and that, along with the two hours of sleep I managed to squeeze in last night, kind of put a damper on the Halloween festivities. Luckily, the kids didn't know the difference.
Even though Xavier was not allowed to go Trick or Treating, I would have had to tie him down to keep him from running to the door every time the doorbell rang. Usually Gwen was right behind him, announcing, "Mommy! Mommy! Someone is here!" as if the three or four doorbell rings per customer was below my level of hearing. Then, treats in hand, as the visitors would be turning away, Gwen would call, "Have a Happy Halloween! Don't get sick!" This did net her a lot of quizzical glances, and toward the end of the evening, I began to think maybe we should rename our home "The House O' Croup and Plague." The kids insisted on eating dinner an hour early so they could get their costumes on (yes, grandparents, there are pictures.)
Adam got home at seven o'clock and took Miranda off trick or treating. After an initial plea that both parents stay home with him, Xavier was pretty content to "trick or treat" from our own stockpile, and we watched the rest of the Nightmare Before Christmas. When the movie ended, feeling a little sorry for the boy, I said, "Sweetie, would you like to walk with me out to the curb and see how our house looks?" I hoisted him up, we opened the door, and we were not halfway across the yard when our attention was arrested by a blood-curdling scream. Looking across our neighbors yard, we saw a pink Iguanadon with baby blue trim running across the driveway clutching a satchel of candy in one hand, the back of her tail with the other, screaming, "Potty! I NEED TO GO POTTY!" A few steps behind her, of course, was my husband. (And, yes, Gwen did pick the colors for her costume.)
Well, with luck, tonight will be a quiet one. Wish me luck -- I was tired enough that I forgot to drink my coffee (twice) today. And another short night might even try Xavier's sunny disposition.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Scary Things
This morning when I woke up, I was on autopilot as usual. Put on the clothes, put on the shoes, take the gym bag downstairs, take out the garbage ... it was only when I stepped outside into the fingers of icy wind, twirling a few stray snowflakes around in the darkness, that I realized what a truly creepy morning it was. Very October.
Anyway, I came back inside and was crossing the living room toward the bathroom to wash my hands, when suddenly I spotted ... very quiet, very still ... behind the rocking chair ... a thatch of black hair crowning an orange face.
Now, on a certain conscious level, I knew it was just Xavier, that he must have awakened when I came downstairs, and he had whimsically put on the pumpkin mask that my mother had sent him in the mail. On a less rational level, my mind screamed, "Oh my gosh, it's Chuckie!" (The scary doll from the movie Child's Play, which I have not actually seen.) I think if he had been dancing around (or if I had had more sleep) he would not have been quite so frightening. Anyway, once I stepped around the rocking chair and saw him standing there with his blue "fish" pajamas, a Humpty Dumpty magazine, and a bear, he wasn't nearly as scary, the mask not withstanding.
The mask is a big favorite with him, as it turns out, because he wore it the entire time we were at the pet store, buying a Beta fish for Gwen. She has gotten really excited about the prospect of getting a pet fish since she saw the aquarium in the Sunday School room. I, on the other hand, have been a little apprehensive, because fish, well ... they come about as close to disposable pets as they come. In fact, it is not entirely unexpected when a fish fails to survive even the short trip home from the pet store. To prepare Gwen for this trauma, I explained to her on the way to the pet store that these things happen, and that the average life span for a fish is probably less than a year. Gwen nodded blissfully, then made observations all the way home along the lines of, "Look! He likes me!" and "He sure looks hungry!"
Xavier, on the other hand, really seized upon the prospect of the fish's mortality, and kept saying, "You know that fish is going to die, don't you, Gwen? Mommy, what if the fish dies tonight? If you feed it too much, Miwanda, that fish is going to die."
Die, die, die. That fish probably would die if he was capable of understanding what Gwen has named it: Loveboy Love Superfish. I love my daughter, but if that isn't scary, I don't know what is.
Anyway, I came back inside and was crossing the living room toward the bathroom to wash my hands, when suddenly I spotted ... very quiet, very still ... behind the rocking chair ... a thatch of black hair crowning an orange face.
Now, on a certain conscious level, I knew it was just Xavier, that he must have awakened when I came downstairs, and he had whimsically put on the pumpkin mask that my mother had sent him in the mail. On a less rational level, my mind screamed, "Oh my gosh, it's Chuckie!" (The scary doll from the movie Child's Play, which I have not actually seen.) I think if he had been dancing around (or if I had had more sleep) he would not have been quite so frightening. Anyway, once I stepped around the rocking chair and saw him standing there with his blue "fish" pajamas, a Humpty Dumpty magazine, and a bear, he wasn't nearly as scary, the mask not withstanding.
The mask is a big favorite with him, as it turns out, because he wore it the entire time we were at the pet store, buying a Beta fish for Gwen. She has gotten really excited about the prospect of getting a pet fish since she saw the aquarium in the Sunday School room. I, on the other hand, have been a little apprehensive, because fish, well ... they come about as close to disposable pets as they come. In fact, it is not entirely unexpected when a fish fails to survive even the short trip home from the pet store. To prepare Gwen for this trauma, I explained to her on the way to the pet store that these things happen, and that the average life span for a fish is probably less than a year. Gwen nodded blissfully, then made observations all the way home along the lines of, "Look! He likes me!" and "He sure looks hungry!"
Xavier, on the other hand, really seized upon the prospect of the fish's mortality, and kept saying, "You know that fish is going to die, don't you, Gwen? Mommy, what if the fish dies tonight? If you feed it too much, Miwanda, that fish is going to die."
Die, die, die. That fish probably would die if he was capable of understanding what Gwen has named it: Loveboy Love Superfish. I love my daughter, but if that isn't scary, I don't know what is.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Parent-Teacher Conference
We had a Parent-Teacher Conference with Gwen's kindergarten teacher today. She says that Gwen is probably one of the smartest kids in kindergarten this year (not THE smartest, but one of the smartest.) She says that Gwen is such a warm and loving child who is always willing to help out, and that she is really a wonderful addition to the classroom. She also talked about a boy in Gwen's class who Gwen has taken under her wing, as it were. It seems the boy is struggling a little, but instead of making fun of him for not being able to write his name, Gwen "dots" it out for him, then cheers him on as he follows her guide. The teacher says this has made a big difference in the boy's self esteem.
There were a couple of interesting things about this anecdote to me; first, Gwen talks about this boy at home all the time, but she has never mentioned helping him write his name (or helping him out at all.) She always describes him just as her friend.
The other thing I noticed is that while we were there, Gwen helped Xavier get toys out, play with them, then helped him put them away ... Wait a minute! She NEVER does this at home! It was then that I realized that a spirit must be taking possession of Gwen as soon as she steps into that kindergarten room and -- OK, I know she isn't really possessed, but I do think maybe she is trying to make a good impression on the teacher. She really does like going to school, though.
Xavier is his usual silly self. Tonight, after watching Ghost Hunters after putting the kids to bed, I started up the stairs myself and about had a heart attack when I saw the apparation of a child at the top of the stairs ... a child wearing pajamas and carrying a book. "I forgot to get a drink of water," he said.
After I got him a drink of water, Xavier said, "I really want to read a book until the alarm goes off."
"No, Xav, it is time to sleep. You are getting over being sick." Besides, the alarm clock is unplugged right now so the Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier could be plugged in.
"But I want to read until the alarm clock goes off!"
"No, Xav, you need to go to sleep."
"But I'm not tired!"
"You can look at a book for a few more minutes, but then you have to go to sleep."
"But my eyes hurt!" Yeah, it's no good telling him that this is because he is trying to read in the dark.
Both kids have coughs right now. Gwen keeps insisting, "I'm NOT sick (hack, hack) I just have REALLY bad allergies!" because she wants to go to school. Xavier, on the other hand, keeps insisting, "I'm too sick to go to school!"
I have an inkling on how his Parent-Teacher Conferences are going to run.
PS The Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier is really cool! I'm not a big Thomas fan, but the steam comes out of his spout! And their is a nightlight inside that reflects through the water in the tank, casting a pale blue light around the room. And the buffer lights are red when the water tank is not set up appropriately and green otherwise! I want one.
Of course, the real danger with this is that Xavier thinks it is a toy. We keep telling him it is not, and that if we catch him playing with it we will have to take it away. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, he asked to sleep with the door closed. Adam found his beloved George monkey downstairs and took it up to him. I'm pretty sure you know what Xavier was doing when Adam opened the door.
There were a couple of interesting things about this anecdote to me; first, Gwen talks about this boy at home all the time, but she has never mentioned helping him write his name (or helping him out at all.) She always describes him just as her friend.
The other thing I noticed is that while we were there, Gwen helped Xavier get toys out, play with them, then helped him put them away ... Wait a minute! She NEVER does this at home! It was then that I realized that a spirit must be taking possession of Gwen as soon as she steps into that kindergarten room and -- OK, I know she isn't really possessed, but I do think maybe she is trying to make a good impression on the teacher. She really does like going to school, though.
Xavier is his usual silly self. Tonight, after watching Ghost Hunters after putting the kids to bed, I started up the stairs myself and about had a heart attack when I saw the apparation of a child at the top of the stairs ... a child wearing pajamas and carrying a book. "I forgot to get a drink of water," he said.
After I got him a drink of water, Xavier said, "I really want to read a book until the alarm goes off."
"No, Xav, it is time to sleep. You are getting over being sick." Besides, the alarm clock is unplugged right now so the Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier could be plugged in.
"But I want to read until the alarm clock goes off!"
"No, Xav, you need to go to sleep."
"But I'm not tired!"
"You can look at a book for a few more minutes, but then you have to go to sleep."
"But my eyes hurt!" Yeah, it's no good telling him that this is because he is trying to read in the dark.
Both kids have coughs right now. Gwen keeps insisting, "I'm NOT sick (hack, hack) I just have REALLY bad allergies!" because she wants to go to school. Xavier, on the other hand, keeps insisting, "I'm too sick to go to school!"
I have an inkling on how his Parent-Teacher Conferences are going to run.
PS The Thomas the Tank Engine humidifier is really cool! I'm not a big Thomas fan, but the steam comes out of his spout! And their is a nightlight inside that reflects through the water in the tank, casting a pale blue light around the room. And the buffer lights are red when the water tank is not set up appropriately and green otherwise! I want one.
Of course, the real danger with this is that Xavier thinks it is a toy. We keep telling him it is not, and that if we catch him playing with it we will have to take it away. Tonight, for the first time in weeks, he asked to sleep with the door closed. Adam found his beloved George monkey downstairs and took it up to him. I'm pretty sure you know what Xavier was doing when Adam opened the door.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Allergies and School Lunch
Allergy season has been pretty rough here this year, to the point that Adam and I (who almost never take allergy medicine) are taking Claritan this year. Poor Gwen has it worse than we do, and despite being on Claritan, is still waking up coughing at night. Given my professional job as Fretter, I made Adam take her to the doctor to make sure it wasn't asthma (it isn't), and to see if there was anything else we could do to make her more comfortable. The doctor prescribed Zirtec; in reviewing the side effects, it says that it can cause vomiting in small children. At first I was hesitant -- but then I remembered that given the level of her cough at mealtimes, she might be susceptible to vomiting if we DON'T try the new medicine, so I guess we are damned if we do, damned if we don't ... anyway, it can also cause drowsiness, so we will probably wait until the weekend to transition her.
Other than being a little sleep-deprived, though, her spirits are pretty good. This is National School Lunch week, so parents were invited to join their kids for lunch. Gwen was very happy and excited that I came, but it didn't take me very long to figure out why I hated school lunch as a kid. At the end of lunch, my tray was pretty much as it was in the beginning (covered with unedible food), except for the chicken nuggets portion because Gwen ate approximately half of them. Gwen, of course, had brought her own lunch, so she was spared the horrors of the alleged potatoes au g-rotten, broccili salad (which sounded good, but wasn't) and a roll that had the approximate flavor of school glue. Still, seeing her eat meat -- even if it is chicken nuggets -- did make me think ... I wonder if we can set her up with the "Processed Meat" plan?
Anyway, when I asked her when we got home today what the best part of school was today, she said, "We had a substitute teacher!" It was kind of humbling.
Xavier and I had a "date" on Monday (I took it off thinking it was a school holiday, but it wasn't.) We went to a Japanese restaurant for lunch (where he was mistaken for a girl, but didn't care because he was offered a lollipop.) Then we stopped at my office for a quick meeting (where he was again mistaken for a girl despite the fact that he was hauling a Transformer around -- I guess he needs a haircut.) While I was talking to my coworker Christian, Xavier came over and said, "Make my transformer a car again!"
Now, these Transformer cars require a PhD to master, and I do not have a PhD. Having expressed this sentiment, Christian said, "I used to LOVE these things when I was a kid!" Five minutes later, Xav and I were twiddling our thumbs while Christian struggled to put the car back together. One of my other coworkers has been nursing a baby kitten, so I thought maybe Xav and I could go see the kitten while Christian worked on his high priority project. I didn 't want to get Xav's hopes up so I called a different coworker to see if Ross was in. Alas, Ross (and, more importantly, the kitten) were not in. The called coworker (Jim) offered to let Xav play with some of his puzzles, but, glancing over at Christian, I said, "Naah, I've already ruined Christian's productivity for the day. No reason to bring you down to our level."
Well, a little man is begging me to come play Transformers, but I have one more quotable quote from Xav. Xav, as some of you know, is on a specialized diet to help with constipation issues. Last night the kids were listening to a Veggie Tales song while brushing their teeth (we use the songs to time them.) Some of the songs are of a religious nature, and the song in question had a chorus of
"Stand ... for what you believe in, believe in,
Believe in God -- he's the one to back you up --
He'll stand by you ... he'll stand by you ..."
Xavier piped up suddenly, "God doesn't back you up -- popcorn does!"
Other than being a little sleep-deprived, though, her spirits are pretty good. This is National School Lunch week, so parents were invited to join their kids for lunch. Gwen was very happy and excited that I came, but it didn't take me very long to figure out why I hated school lunch as a kid. At the end of lunch, my tray was pretty much as it was in the beginning (covered with unedible food), except for the chicken nuggets portion because Gwen ate approximately half of them. Gwen, of course, had brought her own lunch, so she was spared the horrors of the alleged potatoes au g-rotten, broccili salad (which sounded good, but wasn't) and a roll that had the approximate flavor of school glue. Still, seeing her eat meat -- even if it is chicken nuggets -- did make me think ... I wonder if we can set her up with the "Processed Meat" plan?
Anyway, when I asked her when we got home today what the best part of school was today, she said, "We had a substitute teacher!" It was kind of humbling.
Xavier and I had a "date" on Monday (I took it off thinking it was a school holiday, but it wasn't.) We went to a Japanese restaurant for lunch (where he was mistaken for a girl, but didn't care because he was offered a lollipop.) Then we stopped at my office for a quick meeting (where he was again mistaken for a girl despite the fact that he was hauling a Transformer around -- I guess he needs a haircut.) While I was talking to my coworker Christian, Xavier came over and said, "Make my transformer a car again!"
Now, these Transformer cars require a PhD to master, and I do not have a PhD. Having expressed this sentiment, Christian said, "I used to LOVE these things when I was a kid!" Five minutes later, Xav and I were twiddling our thumbs while Christian struggled to put the car back together. One of my other coworkers has been nursing a baby kitten, so I thought maybe Xav and I could go see the kitten while Christian worked on his high priority project. I didn 't want to get Xav's hopes up so I called a different coworker to see if Ross was in. Alas, Ross (and, more importantly, the kitten) were not in. The called coworker (Jim) offered to let Xav play with some of his puzzles, but, glancing over at Christian, I said, "Naah, I've already ruined Christian's productivity for the day. No reason to bring you down to our level."
Well, a little man is begging me to come play Transformers, but I have one more quotable quote from Xav. Xav, as some of you know, is on a specialized diet to help with constipation issues. Last night the kids were listening to a Veggie Tales song while brushing their teeth (we use the songs to time them.) Some of the songs are of a religious nature, and the song in question had a chorus of
"Stand ... for what you believe in, believe in,
Believe in God -- he's the one to back you up --
He'll stand by you ... he'll stand by you ..."
Xavier piped up suddenly, "God doesn't back you up -- popcorn does!"
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Oops! One more thing ...
Gwen had her school pictures taken the other day, and yesterday she brought home the proofs. The pictures are great ... if she is a student at the School for the Criminally Insane Five-Year-Olds.
Yes, there was definitely a Calvin-and-Hobbes-esque quality to these shots. When Adam looked at them, he asked, "Now, did the photographer only take one shot, or is that the best of three?" When Uncle Tom was here on Sunday, he could probably sympathize with that poor photographer, because Gwen hammed it up on every shot.
Adam doesn't think we should buy any of these pictures because he thinks we could take a better picture of her ourselves to distribute amongst the relatives, but I am tempted to go ahead and buy the cheapest set. I'll put them away in a drawer so I can pull them out and embarrass her when she is fifteen. If I can scare off her first boyfriend with them, all the better.
Besides, I know there is no way she'll let us take a better picture than that unless she is asleep.
Yes, there was definitely a Calvin-and-Hobbes-esque quality to these shots. When Adam looked at them, he asked, "Now, did the photographer only take one shot, or is that the best of three?" When Uncle Tom was here on Sunday, he could probably sympathize with that poor photographer, because Gwen hammed it up on every shot.
Adam doesn't think we should buy any of these pictures because he thinks we could take a better picture of her ourselves to distribute amongst the relatives, but I am tempted to go ahead and buy the cheapest set. I'll put them away in a drawer so I can pull them out and embarrass her when she is fifteen. If I can scare off her first boyfriend with them, all the better.
Besides, I know there is no way she'll let us take a better picture than that unless she is asleep.
Monday, October 02, 2006
California Dreaming
My Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel came to visit yesterday from California. The kids fell in love with them almost immediately (of course, they did come bearing gifts.) They brought Gwen a psychedelic bear (which now shares a bed with her and her aptly named "pet", Dino), and they brought Xavier a small Curious George doll.
They stayed for dinner, and after the kids were ready for bed, they said their goodbyes. Xavier was very upset. "I don't want them to go -- I want them to stay! When are they coming back?"
"Well, probably not for awhile, Sweetie -- they live in California."
"Can we go see them there? Soon?"
Then, as I was putting him to bed, he held up the Curious George doll and asked, "Why did they leave their monkey here? Don't they like him anymore?"
"Why, Xavier," I replied, "they brought that monkey for you."
Xavier pondered that for a second, then pulled out another monkey my parents got him in Savannah that he sleeps with (along with his perennial favorites, "Pink Bear", "Bunny", and "Turtle") and said (referring to Curious George and Savannah monkey respectively), "This can be the baby monkey, then, and this can be the mommy."
Pink Bear's reign as favored toy may be in danger -- tonight when Xav woke up to go to the bathroom, he brought a book -- A Mother For Choco -- and Curious George with him. Curious George also accompanied him to school and sat and watched while Xavier had karate class.
Along those lines, it seems Gwen is beginning to show her true political colors. As I was loading them into the car today after karate, Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and said, "Mommy, make Miranda stop calling my monkey George W. !"
In other news ... Gwen's interest in karate has now been rekindled by her discovery of the Century catalog, which has all kinds of cool karate doohickies one might buy ... I don't think she knows what most of them are for, but she wants them all the same.
She also bought herself one of those Magic 8 Ball toys. If you aren't familiar with what those are, they are a giant 8 ball (as you might see from pool) with a window in it and a die inside that has different yes-no-maybe-so type answers; you ask the 8 ball yes-no type questions (like, "Will the Hokies ever win a bowl game?"), and check the answer in the window for your mystic answer ("Concentrate harder and try again.") Gwen was a little daunted when she realized that you have to know how to read to find out your answer, but she didn't let her slow her down -- she started sounding words out like a pro. I faced a more daunting task trying to persuade her that the Magic 8 ball had no psychic powers.
The best Magic 8 ball exchange occurred, however, when I asked the Magic 8 Ball, "Will Xavier's hair catch on fire?" (An inside joke that has no basis in reality.)
Magic 8 Ball responded, "Decidedly yes."
Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and moaned, "Oh, no -- not again!"
We had a fun time with Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel, and we hope the rest of their East Coast vacation is lovely. Take care!
They stayed for dinner, and after the kids were ready for bed, they said their goodbyes. Xavier was very upset. "I don't want them to go -- I want them to stay! When are they coming back?"
"Well, probably not for awhile, Sweetie -- they live in California."
"Can we go see them there? Soon?"
Then, as I was putting him to bed, he held up the Curious George doll and asked, "Why did they leave their monkey here? Don't they like him anymore?"
"Why, Xavier," I replied, "they brought that monkey for you."
Xavier pondered that for a second, then pulled out another monkey my parents got him in Savannah that he sleeps with (along with his perennial favorites, "Pink Bear", "Bunny", and "Turtle") and said (referring to Curious George and Savannah monkey respectively), "This can be the baby monkey, then, and this can be the mommy."
Pink Bear's reign as favored toy may be in danger -- tonight when Xav woke up to go to the bathroom, he brought a book -- A Mother For Choco -- and Curious George with him. Curious George also accompanied him to school and sat and watched while Xavier had karate class.
Along those lines, it seems Gwen is beginning to show her true political colors. As I was loading them into the car today after karate, Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and said, "Mommy, make Miranda stop calling my monkey George W. !"
In other news ... Gwen's interest in karate has now been rekindled by her discovery of the Century catalog, which has all kinds of cool karate doohickies one might buy ... I don't think she knows what most of them are for, but she wants them all the same.
She also bought herself one of those Magic 8 Ball toys. If you aren't familiar with what those are, they are a giant 8 ball (as you might see from pool) with a window in it and a die inside that has different yes-no-maybe-so type answers; you ask the 8 ball yes-no type questions (like, "Will the Hokies ever win a bowl game?"), and check the answer in the window for your mystic answer ("Concentrate harder and try again.") Gwen was a little daunted when she realized that you have to know how to read to find out your answer, but she didn't let her slow her down -- she started sounding words out like a pro. I faced a more daunting task trying to persuade her that the Magic 8 ball had no psychic powers.
The best Magic 8 ball exchange occurred, however, when I asked the Magic 8 Ball, "Will Xavier's hair catch on fire?" (An inside joke that has no basis in reality.)
Magic 8 Ball responded, "Decidedly yes."
Xavier turned to me with a furrowed brow and moaned, "Oh, no -- not again!"
We had a fun time with Uncle Tom and Aunt Liesel, and we hope the rest of their East Coast vacation is lovely. Take care!
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