We went apple picking yesterday. Apple picking in Chicagoland usually involves crowds, lines, and frequent cash payouts. ("You want a BAG for those apples, mister? That's extra!") Our friends parked in the remote lot and we waited for a shuttle to take us to the orchard. (Yes, you read that right.) As we got off the shuttle, a yellow schoolbus, Felix bade farewell to the driver.
F: So long, Cookie!
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(The rest of this post is a bunch of scribbles of varying vintage.)
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I don't remember what he was throwing, but you'll get the gist.
K: Felix, you can't throw that around. It's too heavy.
F: This time, don't watch.
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Poetry in his soul.
F: (Drawing.) Daddy, this is a picture of a very, very old building that is falling down, like a dying apple tree.
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Homer and Bart.
K: Oh no!
F: (alarmed) Daddy, what happened!
K: It says in the paper that they're not going to sell beer on Metra trains anymore.
F: You like to drink beer, don't you, daddy?
K: Yes, I do like to drink beer.
F: Well, you just can't drink it all the time, because when you go on the Metra train, they won't sell it anymore.
K: Nope.
F: What can we do to make them sell it again?
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Felix overhears Marya and I talking politics while reading the paper.
F: Daddy, what happened?
K: Oh, our governor isn't doing a very good job.
F: Why not?
K: Well, he doesn't make very good choices.
F: I wish he would make better choices.
K: Sometimes people try their best, and they don't know they're not making good choices.
F: I'll teach him to make good choices.
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Explaining to Felix that I'm a little late because there was heavy traffic.
F: You should get home earlier, like between 5:17 and 5:20.
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Tucking in.
K: Can I get a goodnight hug, Felix?
F: I was thinking maybe I could do that tomorrow night.
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A loud bang.
K: Felix, what happened?
F: I was trying to get off my seat and my brain told me to kick the table. My brain's making bad choices today.
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A slightly older one.
F: Daddy, what is that?
K: That's a picture of Barack Obama giving a speech to a bunch of people in Germany. He wants to be President of the United States. We're going to have an election soon and everybody's going to vote for the person that they want to be President. The President is kind of like the boss of the country.
F: Yes, you can't be President until you're 17 years old.
K: Actually, you can't be President until you're 35 years old. But you can vote for the President when you're 18 years old.
F: Well, I don't want to vote when I am 18. I just want to be President when I am 35. I choose to be President of the whole United States and Africa, Australia, and Antarctica.
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Watching the Cubs get ready to break our hearts.
K: Felix, do you like soccer better, or baseball?
F: I like baseball better.
K: Why is that?
F: I like baseball because there's that
funny commercial they put on there.