In case you were wondering, the high point of today involved fishing copious amounts of m&ms out of X-Man’s mouth. The pretzel ones. So they were extra-large. All the more reason to shove all six into your mouth at one time. If you tend to drool plenty anyway, a condition I am blaming on his swollen adenoids at the moment, and you shove six large m&ms in your mouth your drool will become like a rainbow. A rainbow that’s been dragged through the mud, but your drool will certainly be jazzed up quite a bit. X-Man had six m&ms to shove into his mouth because he had just peed in the potty, so I really didn’t care about how freakish he looked moments after the triumph. I had visions of him being freakish while wearing underwear and that makes me very happy.

Other things that make me happy are really clever jokes and puns. Especially when my daughter says them. Yesterday Baba informed her Aunt Kitty, with whom she was playing Oppressors versus Natives, that Sihks were her favorite kind of Indians. And I was proud. Oh so proud. First, that her cultural knowledge had expanded that far. As far as I knew, I was still her teacher and I didn’t remember covering that in social sciences, but whatever my child’s a genius. Furthermore, the cleverness of her pun blew my mind. Like I wished I had thought of it. Totes proud kid. Totes proud. Then she confessed “At least I think that’s how you say it. You spell it ‘Sioux’”. Oh. Time to come crashing down to earth. My little girl just has that homeschooling reader’s vocabulary. Expansive but mostly mispronounced. Oh well, better luck next time.

Mac invited his grandfather to join him in a game of punch nose. If you are curious as to how to participate, Mac will happily demonstrate. I believe the game was created out of sheer panic, the grandfather, who can be a bit intimidating, asks what you are doing, quick think of something….anything! And so punch nose became the activity of necessity.

In case there was any confusion, X-Man swam an extra lap in the maternal gene pool. He brought the father figure a coffee cup and announced “Starbucks” and waddled off. I’m not sure if it is the coffee familiarity or the waddling which is the stronger marker of heritage.