It was a sick day today. The Boy woke up with an achy back and head and a fever. Damn flu shot (yes, I said it; it's in the Bible). We had to cancel knitting and we pretty much laid low.
The Girl has been wanting to make a duck prop out of felt for the play they are writing in their theatre class, so, leaving The Boy in the very able hands of The Sister, my daughter and I had some one-on-one time. We went to Lee's Art Shop -- a store full of possibilities. After winding up every single wind-up toy and discussing which one was the cutest and which one was the most interesting we meandered down to the crafting section and found what she needed in amongst the very random items.
I enjoyed being with her to hear her cute voice and ideas. She is a very thoughtful, wise, funny little gal. I looked down at her at one point and thought: if I were a seven-year old girl I would definitely choose her to be my friend. Ironically, as I was thinking that she slid her hand out of mine. She is much more independent in that way than her brother.
Walking home past the Time Warner Building we stopped to watch some ice sculptures being created.
"I wonder how they learn to do that?" Me
"Yeah. Who taught him?"
"It's pretty cool that everybody has different skills." Me (I'm on this theme lately)
"But how did he know he could do that?"
"I don't know. I wonder what he does during the summer." Me
"He probably sculpts sand castles."
"There are so many things. How do you know what you should do?" Me
After a few steps I said in a the-world-is-my-oyster-voice, "Maybe I'm supposed to be an ice sculptor."
"Yeah, maybe you are." This was said in voice that was half super-cute fun and half smart-alec taunting -- like the teenage boy who looks at his mom and says with his eyes wide: Those leg-warmers look great on you -- you should definitely wear them to your reunion...
On an unrelated note (or very related), a friend passed along this article about homeschooling from The Atlantic Monthly. As I was reading it Judd the Red Chicken crawled on my lap and read some.
"Is this your blog?" He asked.
"No," I answered, "Same ideas, but this is well-written."
"Oh."
