Like any red-blooded American Liberal seven year-old, Dina likes reading The New Yorker in the bathroom.
Well, it was only a matter of time before she took a crack at the cartoon caption contest, so I was only mildly surprised when I opened the magazine the other day and saw this:
Dina's Submission
For those of you who need a translation, it reads: “Honey, Wayne Zelinski blew up the phone.”
For those of you who do not get that allusion, there is nothing I can do.
Last night Dina knocked over a cup of water on her and Bassie’s bedstand. But instead of spilling all over Dina’s stuff, it spilled on Bassie’s Percy Jackson book.
Bassie: HER water spilled, but MY book got ruined.
Me: Thats Murphy’s Law.
Bassie: Why does Murphy’s Law only apply to ME?!
Me: Exactly.
Yesterday, the girls were talking about who should take over the Extended Day program at their school when the current director retires.
Bassie: I hope Wendy gets the job because she’s very good at organizing things and being in charge.
Dina: But Wendy yelled at me once when I wanted to have a playdate with Mia.
Bassie: I’m sure she didn’t yell at you.
Dina: Yes she did. She wouldn’t let me. She said “No way!”
Bassie: Well, that’s her job.
Dina: What? Making children cry?
Bassie: No, following the rules and being responsible.
Dina: But she didn’t have to yell.
Bassie: She probably didn’t yell at you. What was her tone?
Dina: (yelling) NO WAY!!!
Bassie: (pause) Look, just because you had one bad experience with someone doesn’t mean they’re not a good person.
At this point both girls are on the verge of tears, Dina because she is literally reliving her experience and feeling her emotions as though it were happening that very moment, and Basya because of the depth of her frustration over what she perceives as Dina’s totally irrational assessment of Wendy’s character.
And I am stiffling a giggle. Yay, parenthood.
Guys! It seems like only yesterday that he turned 21 and legally drank for the first time…and it seems like only a year and a half later than that when his first child was born! And two and a half years after that when our car insurance rates finally went down because he was no longer in the most statistically dangerous demographic in the universe. Somewhere in there he had another baby, and got rabbinic ordination, and a Masters in Math, and an MBA, and moved to Boston. He also learned Hebrew and Aramaic and Yiddish, and discovered a UNIX bug, applied for a patent, and was “this close” to winning to Netflix prize (if only he had a supercomputer at his disposal to run the algorithms).
Hang on…I’m adding up the number of years it would realistically take to do all that stuff and I’m pretty sure yosefblog is, like, 57.
The other day I told the girls about the line in Romeo and Juliet where Juliet asks the Nurse what Romeo told her, and she replies, “Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsom, and I warrant, a virtuous–Where is your mother?” to which Juliet responds, “How oddly thou repliest: ‘Your love says, like an hoest gentleman, Where is your mother?’” Dina didn’t think too much of it, but Bassie thought it was hilarious, and she’s been bringing it up every chance she gets. And, apparently, I give her plently of chances.
For instance, the other night, when I was looking over her shoulder at a story she was writing, and as I walked away said, “I really love your story…I have to go to the bathroom”.
“‘I really love your story…I have to go to the bathroom?’ Mom, you are a master of romance.”
This is what happens when you introduce your children to Shakespeare.
One of the elevators in our building is getting a new motor, and has been out of commission for a week. This, as you can imagine, has caused lots of wait time and crowding in the OTHER elevator. so today, we left extra time when leaving for school to make sure we wouldn’t be late (those of you who know me well know my almost pathological fear of lateness).
Oddly, however, the elevator came almost instantaneously, and was EMPTY!
Me: That’s weird. Where is everybody?
pause
Bassie: (ominously) Maybe they were all KILLED!
Me: That’s what *I* was going to say!
And we share a warm, zombiepocalypse hug.
I love it when conversations that Yosef and I have on road trips show up in that day’s Journal. This one was inspired by the following billboard: “Sex can wait. Your future can’t.” Now, aside from the actual logical issues with this pair of statements (I mean, unless they literally mean that, time being linear and directional, you are constantly approaching your future, and that, short of freezing time entirely, it will literally not wait for you, which I don’t think they mean), this argument has been shown to be pretty ineffective in dealing with teen pregnancy.
yb and I decided that a more fitting and accurate billboard would be simply this: “If you don’t believe in abortion, don’t have unprotected sex.” And then just let people work out the details for themselves.
ps: If you don’t want to read the whole article, here’s the piece that caught yb’s eye: “And many young people are in “the fog zone” in which their beliefs about pregnancy don’t match their behaviors”.
In the car on the way to school this morning…
Bassie: Mom! You know what? Luke…I mean, from Star Wars…is like Harry Potter, and Darth Vader is like Voldimort, and the Death Eaters are like the Storm Troopers, and Ron is like Han Solo, and Hermione is like Princess Leia, and Dumbledore is like Yoda (parents’ note: Hmm…really…not Obi Wan? Okay…)
Also, obviously, she forgot Hagrid and Chewbaca, but I’ll let it slide…
this time.
Overheard by yosefblog at breakfast this morning:
Dina: The Big Bang killed all the dinosaurs.
Bassie: (with skepticism) Some scientists think.
Note: Let me disclose that, when yb came to me to tell me about this interchange, it took me a second to realize that anything was wrong with that conversation. This makes me think that the two of them should start a lobbying firm. Promoting what? Whatever.