I saw a commerical last night for Southeast Missouri basketball, and apparently their coach is named Dickey Nutt. Dickey Nutt! Which, not to be all juvenile or immature or anything, but HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Henry and Eleanor love their daddy, but it’s me they’re with for most of the day. So at home, when tasks need to be done for them, it’s usually, “no daddy, just mommy do it,” to which I inwardly seethe, “IT’S JUST A SHOE, KID, ANYONE CAN TIE IT.” So it’s nice to come home and be second banana behind my mom. All week it’s been, “no mommy, just grandma do it.” Fine, kids, suit yourself, Mommy will be over here snoozing in the recliner.
The other night at supper, we told the kids we’d watch baseball after we were done eating. “Who do you want to win the World Series?” my mom asked Eleanor. “Do you want the Yankees to win?” “No, the Phillies,” replied Eleanor. Yes, my two-year-old was aware of the teams in the World Series. She might have more sports knowledge than I do.
Later that night I looked at the Penney’s Christmas catalog with the kids, browsing all the toy photos. My folks and I were talking about Santa, and Henry and Eleanor were all, “I scared Santa.” Then we told them how Santa brings us presents and toys and Eleanor was all, “I love Santa!” We asked Henry what he wanted Santa to bring him and he said: