Between being married to a teacher and being the parent of a 4- and a 1-year-old, sometimes I think I am forever doomed to be picking up writing and coloring implements, like Sisyphus cursed to an eternity working a minimum-wage job at OfficeMax.
V: “We have 20 o’clock until the dinosaur egg hatches!”
V: “The oceans are going away. The bad guys are taking them.”
M: “Oh no. What are we going to do?”
V: “When P grows up and becomes a dad, he’s gonna eat the bad guys.”
V: “It smells like a cup of coffee growing on a vine out here.”
V: “I’m not a tough cookie; I’m a tough four-year-old!”
When I posted this photo from several years back to Glass today, V saw it and asked, “Is that Moana 2?”
Every night:
V: “I want ‘Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens’, and then ‘Goat Herd’, and then ‘Sound of Music’ where the naaanny sings, and then Moana 2 music.”
S: “OK. Hey Siri, play V’s playlist.”
In a rickshaw with traffic zipping and horns blaring all around us
