Hi Kids

I’m in deadline time again, so daily ramblings will probably be a pipe-dream at this point.

Tomorrow I’ll have both kids home. I think we’re going to the zoo. Might leave Gertrude in the monkey cage. Haven’t decided yet.

Kids are doing great. They’re both adorable and increasingly brilliant. Last night was Matilda’s parent teacher conference. She’s getting the highest grades she’s ever gotten and is quite an accomplished reader and writer. I was quite pleased to find out that she’s also excelling in math and shaming the other students with her work in science.

A powerful argument could be made her on nature versus nurture because, biologically speaking, Matilda’s mother is the only one who could have genetically passed along any intelligence. Since I’m not her bio-dad, that’s all I have to say about that.

So, yay nurture!

Gertrude woke up at 4:30 with a bad dream and requested daddy cuddling. I was so sound asleep that I wasn’t aware of this. All I know is that I was being patted on the shoulder to the refrain of:

“Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Puppies nip. I go poopie on the potty. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. I eat Wiggle nocks. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Want bacon? Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. I have a bad dream. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Look! Kitty. Daddy. Dad. Daddy. Dad.”

I recall patting her, saying something about sleepy time and falling back asleep to have a dream about a monkey who bowled a perfect 300. I was his manager. We lived in Utah and we became very rich on the PBA circuit. But it all fell apart so we started a Monkey/Man wallpaper hanging business.

No more garlicky dinners.