Love, Dinosaurs and Other Monsters

Been a good couple of days. Some moments of high stress, which I don't want to dwell upon, so I won't, but a lot of goodness.

I had the kids today. Well, I have them every weekday, but I had them tonight as well. Thing is, somehow it was 6 before we realized it, and we'd missed the library, but man the day flew. We had us some fun.

For one thing, the 5-year-old has been reading. I mean, she's been able to read, whenever she had confidence in it, for a long time. But now she's finally decided that she definitely can, and the past few nights we've been having Reading Parties.

This tradition started Wednesday night, when I'd started reading her The Subway Mouse (which check out, btw, especially if you live in a city with subways) and had to stop after several pages to check on the Toddler. When I came back, the big one was reading the book. Not just reciting memorized schtick, but clearly puzzling over unfamiliar words and sounding them out, at just about half normal reading-aloud speed! So now I read her half a book, and she reads the other half. I'm hugely excited every time I see her working though an word or something (tonight it was "someone"; she needed only to be told "it's two words put together," and she got it). A whole new world finally opening up to her now, and she lives in quite a few worlds already.

So there's that. And earlier this week, as I may have mentioned, we watched Walking With Monsters, which was kick-ass. Well, we finally sent that back, and today received Walking with Dinosaurs. So we're sitting in front of the monitor, one and the other on and off my lap, eating apples, grapes and popcorn while watching brilliantly lifelike Dinosaurs eat one another. Doesn't get much better than that.

I occasionally pause the video to explain something the documentary-makers left out (like about Utahraptor's switchblade claw, what the hell, it's a major feature of the entire family, dumbasses!)

Then it's 8:00 and the potato-broccoli soup we'd planned isn't started, but we're so full of apples, grapes and popcorn none of us cares. During a break, the toddler takes me into the bedroom and wants to play sleep with me. After awhile, I take a break to check the big one, and after a while ask, "Why's your sister so quiet?" (Instant panic/suspicion sets in, of course.) I look in on her and she's dragged a pillow over her and fallen asleep. (I check breathing to be sure, and all is well).

I shall amend my previous statement. It doesn't get any better than THAT.

So I sit down to check email, and I have some notices from MD. While on MD, I comment on a blog that I wish I had a cold beer. Some short time later, the Best Ex Ever calls, having just gotten home. SHE brings me cold beer. Then remembers she's just brought home pizza, and brings me that. Fresh basil, fresh tomatoes, kalamata olives and pepperoni. Man, she is gonna make someone one hell of a domestic partner some day.

Ah, and yesterday there was Armani Girl.

I've mentioned Armani Girl before. For those of you who didn't read or don't recall, she's my favorite cashier at the nearby 99 Super Store. I know her real name, but I started thinking of her as Armani Girl the day I first saw her, amid shelves of plastic 99-cent crap, wearing a shirt saying only "Armani." The irony of this was Turkish Delight to my soul, and I've had a crush on her ever since.

It was thus unusual luck for me that she's taken a huge shine to my children, especially the toddler. Every time we walk in the store, there is a cry of "Hi, Efe! Hi Krace!" (And yes, there is definitely something in that ESL pronunciation that does it for me though I die a little inside to admit it. As I've said before, I cherish the thought that I'm one of the few American males without an Asian fetish). My girls have come to expect this treatment, and know that some form of candy will always be offered.

Well, yesterday, Armani Girl decided to put a little hairband in the toddler's hair -- a process in which the toddler absolutely reveled. Well, to do this, Armani Girl basically had to climb on top of the counter... facing me... leeeean forward... um, yeah, like that.

I tried to keep my eyes on Eve. Really. I tried to gaze adoringly at my little moppet, bursting with cuteness and delight. I estimate I succeeded about half the time. Which was about a minute or so, though it somehow seemed both much more fleeting, yet a moment hung in eternity. Hmm. 50% is a failure in most grading systems, isn't it? Damn. Well, at least I didn't get caught.

Until now, I suppose. Armani Girl, if you're reading this... I love you.