Monet and Hepburn
This evening Evan sat in his booster seat, twisting his spoon in the air with artisic madness; intentional, yet frantic--like a composer conducting his orchestra. (We're talking squinting and looking out from under his brows in concentration--that's right, the whole nine yards.)
"What are you doing, Evan?" Shaun asked.
Evan pointed at the oil-painting of field rabbits on our wall and exclaimed, "I drew a bunny rabbit, daddy--Look!!"
He was smiling because he knew we would play along...(yeah, he knows us well.)
Now Madalyn, her new thing is "um."
As in:
"Madalyn, which alphabet letters do you want to play with?"
"Umm...." (like she can't make up her mind.)
Or--
"Which movie do you want?"
"Ummm...."
Like a 3-year old, I'm telling you. Just-like-Evan, (her obvious goal in life.) Although now she's added her own Katharine Hepburn-flair to it, as we ask more as a cue to perform than a real question.
"The Hepburn" involves rolling her large eyes up and to the right, as though she's searching her brain for the many options, while puckering her lips in to hold the "m" twice as long as she used to...
She's one. Everything's a joke. I mean this is the age where you play with the potty water as much as the milk in your cereal, where old ladies and bag boys make funny faces at you in the store; she can't decide if the world's her playground or her stage. And it doesn't matter, because either way life is good.
