I'm Rich. She's beautiful.
We were playing a game of “Would You Rather,” and Weston came up with a real dilemma:
Would you rather be able to understand every language and not be able to speak them—or the opposite?
I think I would rather speak other languages and not know what I’m saying, but that’s me.
Weston: “What can I get you for your birthday?”
Claire: “Win the first game of the tournament, and that will be my present.”
Weston: “OK, and I’ll lose the second so you don’t have to stay for another game.”
(They won all three anyway.)
Conrad had a basketball game yesterday. They won by 28 points. Conrad played point and did well. He scored 20 points and got about a bazillion assists. Part-way through the game, someone in the stands yelled, “Good job, Conrad!” Conrad looked back and said, “Thank you!”
Such a polite young man.
I don’t remember the question, but Conrad answered, “Uh UH uh.”
Rich: “Use words. How did ‘uh uh uh’ become ‘I don’t know’?”
Conrad: “Uh UH uh.”
Weston wears shorts all year, and has never experienced weather cold enough to merit pants in his mind. This was painful to watch on our recent trip to London. Some days were much too cold for shorts — at least for any of the other 8.5 million people in London — but Weston didn’t care.
We walked by a stand that sold FC Barcelona hats. I told Weston I would buy him a hat if he agreed to wear pants the next day. We then went into our regular back-and-forth about why, at times, he should wear pants. The man selling us the hat had a bemused look on his face, and I realized that “pants” in England means “underwear.” I was trying to bribe my son to wear underwear, which is only slightly less bizarre than trying to bribe him to wear “trousers.”
Harper asked us if she could have a weasel for her birthday (which is more than six months away, incidentally). I thought this was an odd request, so I asked some clarifying questions. She further explained, “You know, one of those things you paint on.” It turns out she wants an easel, not a weasel — which is only slightly less weird for a six year old, maybe.
Claire, always seizing an opportunity to teach told her that the word “easel” got its name because it makes painting so easy! I looked up the real etymology and Google says it comes from the Dutch word, “ezel” which means “ass” or “horse” to denote a supporting frame. I prefer Claire’s version; Harper prefers Google’s version. Avik prefers calling it a weasel.
Conrad is really into food. When we ask him what he wants for his birthday or for Christmas, the answer is often “food.” (I promise, we do feed him the rest of the year as well.) He eats every meal like it’s the first one he’s had in years. He eats quickly and doesn’t waste a crumb. Once, during dinner, I asked him to slow down as I often do. I then started talking with the other kids. A few minutes later, I noticed that Conrad appeared to be frozen in the background, his spoon held in midair. I watched him closely and noticed that he WAS moving…barely. He hadn’t had another bite but was working on it. He had simply slowed down.
We are big Trail Blazer fans. We also love watching Stephen Curry play. We were excited to go to a Warriors/Blazers game, and we were getting ready to walk out the door. Harper showed Claire a drawing that she did, and explained that she wanted to give it to Stephen Curry.
Everywhere we go, Harper makes about three new friends. She just assumed that, since we were going to a game, and that Stephen Curry was going to be there, then she would be her normal gregarious self and become friends with the most famous, most popular basketball player in the world.
I wish I could say that Harper willed it into being, but the closest we got was getting caught in a stampede of half-naked BlazerDancers.
Conrad and I went for an evening bike ride to pick up some Justin’s Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups (pretty much my favorite treat). On our way back, we took the long path through the park. We were the only people on the trail, and there was a nice breeze. As I was riding over the bridge, I looked at the water below and thought about how good it felt to be alive, cruising through the park with my son. Conrad must have appreciated it too because, a second later, I hear him yell, “THIS IS PLEASANT!”
One of my favorite things recently is driving Julia and her friends to school in the morning.
One morning, Julia’s friend, Grace, asked me why the gas gauge was on “E.” I answered very matter-of-factly, “Oh, that’s because there isn’t any gas in the car.” I was expecting a chuckle from Julia at least, but I got nothing. A few moments later, it was clear that Grace was still wrestling with the question and asked, “Is this an electric car?” I answered very matter-of-factly, “Oh, no, there definitely should be gas in the car.”
This morning, Grace asked me if we were driving to school the Google way. It took me a second, but I remembered that we used Google to see which route it thought was fastest. I told Grace that we were going the “Google” way and asked if she would rather I go a different way. She answered, “No, you keep going with your bad self.”