Mother's Day

The Truth: Always a Tricky Proposition

The other night while I was making dinner, I heard a loud thump and then Cosmo started crying. I looked in to the living room and saw Cosmo in a heap behind the couch. Felix was dancing around with a suspicious look on his face. However, being the fair-minded father that I am, and mindful of the fact that Cosmo had tumbled off the back of the couch two other times in as many days, I did not leap to conclusions.

First, I comforted the crying child.

Then, and only then, did I seek to assign blame.

K: Cosmo, what happened?

C: Felix pushded me off the couch!

K: Felix, is that true?

F: No, he just fell off all by himself.

[Short ad lib wherein Cosmo again affirms that he was pushed.)

F: He's lying! He's lying!

C: He pushded me.

K: Well, you can't both be right. One of you isn't telling the truth.

F: I think maybe it might even be my little brother.

Talking Toilets

Cosmo, yielding a snap block creation: This is my gun. It shoots talking toilets and big cars at the bad queen.

***

Felix: When I grow up I want to be an artist Monday through Friday and an engineer on the weekends because I'm better at art than at being an engineer.

recent photos

My Son, the Vulcan

The last two weekends, Felix has ridden his bike along with me while I went running. He's done really well, going about two miles each time. (And when he's going full speed I have to run all out to keep up with him.) Today, he made the following observations.

F: Daddy, it seems to me that, every time I ride my bike, everything that is man-made seems to be moving.

Later:

F: Dad, stop! You're going too fast! The speed limit is: no faster than Felix.

Everything's Relative

Having run breathlessly from driveway to driveway.

Felix: Guess what? I ran ten and a half miles per speed. It's not as fast as miles per hour, but it's still pretty fast.