If we ask 2-year-old Hazel if she wants more food, and she doesn’t, she’ll shout, “No! I’m fulled of it!” We always have to nod and agree that, yes, Hazel is surely fulled of it.
Earlier today Hazel was singing words from “The Girl I Mean to Be” from The Secret Garden, so I found it on iTunes and played it for her while I was reading email. I felt something stroking my hair, and turned and saw she’d been combing it with a (clean) paintbrush. Then she stroked her own face and hair with the paintbrush.
I smiled at her. Suddenly she lashed out with the paintbrush, sword-like, shouting, “Hai-ya!”
I raised my eyebrows, and she giggled.
While I was driving 6th-grader Mabel to the library to get some books for a homework assignment, she mentioned that they’ve started the Jazz Read-a-Thon thing again at her school, and she’s not excited about it. “It’s not like having some basketball player come read to us is going to motivate me to read.”
“And then when they come,” I joked, “They’re all, ‘Hey kids, reading is fun and you should all read a lot.’ But they’ve never read a book before, so they’re struggling to read it–”
“Yes! They’re like, ‘Uh, the cat . . . sat . . . on . . . the . . . mat.”
“Really? I was kidding!”
“Well, I was exaggerating. But they’re not good readers at all.”
Mabel (along with hundreds of other local girls, I’m sure) is planning to audition for The Secret Garden at a local theater, and at dinner we were saying that, whether or not Mabel’s in the show, we’d like to go see it.
I said, “I love that show. You know it has a song that, if I die before Dad, I would want to have a really good singer sing at my funeral?”
Mabel asked, “Which song?”
Dean suggested, “A Bit of Earth”?
Mabel joined in, quoting from the show: “Might I have a bit of earth?”
(I laughed for about 5 minutes. But the song I’d actually want my sister Mary to sing at my funeral is How Could I Ever Know?)
Impromptu Christmas portrait–taken after church by an obliging neighbor girl. Perhaps someday I will figure out how not to appear terrified of the camera. (Better still would be to actually not be terrified–but that’s asking a lot.)