“I call him little tiny cute monster ’cause he steals remotes.”

V: “This bike has safety measures!”

M: “What safety measures are on your bike?”

V: pointing to the brake line “The safety measures are inside this cord.”

(Discussing chocolate coins from the scavenger hunt at her brother’s birthday party.)

“Our treasure was coins. I ate all my coins. I was greedy for my coin treasures.”

(After tripping and putting her hand in some very green bird poop)

V: “I landed in some bird broccoli.”

I renamed the Roomba recently because V has been on a Moana kick and it seemed appropriate. It has made the notifications entertaining.

V: “I’m a wayfinder!”

M: “Is your bike kind of like your boat?”

V: “No. Boats don’t have wheels. Bikes have wheels. So bikes are not like boats.”

M: “So when are you going to be hungry?”

V: “I’m gonna be hungry in, like, 7 minutes.”

V: “Are you making a castle?”

M: “Kind of. What would you think about me making you a castle?”

V: “I think it’s a little tricky, but very creative.”

S: “I called it [lasagna] ‘basanya’ too when I was her age.”

V: “I call it ‘soup pizza!’”

We’ve been making plans to go back to the US for the kids’ preschool years at least, to get them in English preschools and spend some time closer to the other side of the family. The recurring news of school shootings like yesterday’s is one of the main things that gives us pause.

I can try to reassure myself that millions of kids go to American schools every day without getting shot—but the fact that I have to is not OK.