I learned two things today.
1) There is an upper age limit on when you can sing "Shankill Butchers" to your children.
2) That limit is age six.
There is a more than probable chance that Tessa will be singing that song to herself tomorrow at school.
If anyone asks about it, I'm going to focus on the value of vocabulary terms like "cleaver" and "askew" and commonsense lessons like "lock your windows tight."
With one of her knowing looks, Amy mentioned that Tessa asked "What's a butcher?" Amy played it safe and referenced the "going to market" conversation. More and more, I reminisce about those wonderful pre-verbal days.
I guess it's back to the wheels on the damn bus.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Drewsker arrives
Uncle Drew arrived after a blistering 17 hour flight from Dallas to Sydney. "Blistering" is ironic here, since Drew had three free seats next to him on that flight and managed to stretch out and have a pleasant six hour nap. We waited for him at the arrivals gate and watched him stagger back and forth several times.
We got a little crazy right after he arrived.
We hit the Botanic Garden. WOOT!
And of course the Titan Arum.
Drew decided to get a closeup of the corpse flower, despite my shrieks of warning. I later discovered that he was taking a picture of "a really big spider under that oak tree." I never told him how close he came to being lunch to an oversized stalk of celery.
As an aside, that is the same corpse "plant" that I took a few weeks ago. The only upside is that is no longer smells like a pre-school classroom after burrito day.
This is an example of overeager photography. I was excited to see the Douglas name in Australia, and therefore neglected to evaluate whether this is an interesting photo. Which, I've decided, it is not - unless you're into pictures of withered leaves. If so, it turns out that I have a LOT of those.
Uncle Drew and the Rillkins.
Uncle Drew and Tessabear.
The girls were excited to have a new reader, as they have decided that I am substandard. Although Amy had a hard time arguing with them, I was able to come up with four important functions I serve. But they have a point about the reading. I have personally read over 200 pages of Rowan and struggle to remember any details. I have a vague sense that it has something to do with a dragon, who is either named Rowan or eats Rowan or "gets involved" with a billionaire named Rowan who is into S&M. The most profound problem with reading to your children (beyond the occasional elbow in the eye) is the sedating effect of their warmth. I get so relaxed that I repeatedly fall asleep in mid sentence. Amy told me it sounds like I'm having a stroke (interestingly, I don't remember her ever trying to resuscitate me or call an ambulance).
However, If you look closely at the photo, you'll see that The Great Uncle Drew isn't doing much better. His eyes are closed.
We started the thirty minute drive home from the airport. After ten minutes, Drew suddenly panicked because he realized he was in the Laser's left front seat and couldn't find the steering wheel.
 |
"Am I supposed to be driving?" |
We hit the Botanic Garden. WOOT!
A Flower
Another Flower
And of course the Titan Arum.
Drew decided to get a closeup of the corpse flower, despite my shrieks of warning. I later discovered that he was taking a picture of "a really big spider under that oak tree." I never told him how close he came to being lunch to an oversized stalk of celery.
As an aside, that is the same corpse "plant" that I took a few weeks ago. The only upside is that is no longer smells like a pre-school classroom after burrito day.
This is an example of overeager photography. I was excited to see the Douglas name in Australia, and therefore neglected to evaluate whether this is an interesting photo. Which, I've decided, it is not - unless you're into pictures of withered leaves. If so, it turns out that I have a LOT of those.
Uncle Drew and the Rillkins.
Uncle Drew and Tessabear.
Uncle Drew reading Rowan of Rin, a fantasy novel by Emily Rodda, an Australian author.
The girls were excited to have a new reader, as they have decided that I am substandard. Although Amy had a hard time arguing with them, I was able to come up with four important functions I serve. But they have a point about the reading. I have personally read over 200 pages of Rowan and struggle to remember any details. I have a vague sense that it has something to do with a dragon, who is either named Rowan or eats Rowan or "gets involved" with a billionaire named Rowan who is into S&M. The most profound problem with reading to your children (beyond the occasional elbow in the eye) is the sedating effect of their warmth. I get so relaxed that I repeatedly fall asleep in mid sentence. Amy told me it sounds like I'm having a stroke (interestingly, I don't remember her ever trying to resuscitate me or call an ambulance).
However, If you look closely at the photo, you'll see that The Great Uncle Drew isn't doing much better. His eyes are closed.
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