Ratatouille and quesadillas

Oh, my dear people – another self-imposed blog post deadline has come, and I have not had time to draw anything. By Thursday I’ll have something, hopefully. Meantime, if you’d like to read it, I will tell you about our day.

We all wandered into the living room in the morning at about the same time. Having slept lightly expecting to hear from sick kids, I decided to take advantage of their being peacefully asleep in the early morning, to get extra sleep too.

We did lessons. Anthony dutifully repeated, “M says ‘mmmm’; S says ‘sssss’,” but when we got to the short a sound, no matter how often I said it and waited, he wouldn’t even try it. I think that the letter a is the bane of anyone trying to shake a Minnesota accent, and I have a suspicion that that marker of my home state was confusing him.

John and I have been in disagreement about something for a while now, and we revisited the issue today.

”Car.”

”Airplane.”

”Car.”

”Airplane.”

”K-k-car?”

”No, it’s not a helicopter. It’s an airplane.”

”Mmmmm,” he said, in a tone of conciliatory speculation. “Car,” he concluded, positively.

In the late afternoon, we went to a nearby woodsy park recommended as a place with stroller-friendly paths. It was lovely! Thomas collected pine cones and Johnny sang, and we looked down over the neighborhoods on the rolling hills below. As the light began to wane we heard insects singing in the trees and brush.

As the van hove into sight in the parking lot, Thomas suddenly stopped.

”We didn’t get to go for a hike!”

”But, that is what we just did.” (It was advertised, after all, as a “stroller hike.”)

”We didn’t go for a hike – we just went for a walk in the woods!”* he wailed.

As we neared home, he reiterated the plan he had come up with as we left the park, that he was going to run away, by himself.

”Oh, no! Will you take me with you?” I asked.

”Well . . .all right,” he agreed. “But after that, I’ll run away by myself.”

As we’d just arrived home I said,

“How about if we go inside and watch Ratatouille and eat quesadillas, instead?”

Happily, he agreed – and that is what we did.

*He explained that a hike involves going on trails in the woods, not on wide paths the in woods.

3 thoughts on “Ratatouille and quesadillas

  1. Julie Ashton

    Oh the trials and tribulations of teaching! Wouldn’t trade this for anything. Well, that’s a bit strong, but you know what I mean.

    Reply

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