Now that my daughter is three, it’s become nearly impossible to keep her completely away from the television set. PBS in particular, thanks to our cutting the cable. While this means that she’s thankfully not exposed to the machine gun fire of brain-frying commercials and the endless parade of brain-dead princesses with no aspirations to do anything with their lives than to look pretty and make babies with handsome men, she has become quite likely the world’s number one fan of a show you’ve probably never heard of: Wild Kratts.
It cannot be debated that while babies look delicious, they should not be eaten. This hasn’t stopped my 3-year-old daughter Audrey from hatching a plan to do just this, however. She just can’t wait to harvest her baby brother for food.
AUDREY: “Let’s eat Zachary, Daddy.”
ME: “Oh yeah?”
AUDREY: “Yeah! Let’s sprinkle chocolate on him.”
ME: “Oooh, that should make him tastier.”
AUDREY: “Yeah! First step is to sprinkle chocolate on him!” (mimics sprinkling chocolate on the boy’s head)
ME: “Great! What’s the second step?”
AUDREY: “Next we pour the butter!” (mimics pouring hot liquid butter on him)
ME: “That actually sounds pretty good! What’s the third step?”
AUDREY: (thinks for a moment then raises her finger triumphantly) “Now some ketchup!” (squirts imaginary ketchup then strikes a victor’s pose) “Now he’s yummy! Let’s eat him now.”
So it was then that my daughter and I sat beside young Zachary and pretended to pick pieces off of him and eat them. We licked our lips, grunted like ravenous Vikings, and even debated Zachary’s tastiest bits (The belly—we both agreed the belly was the best part.) It was a real highpoint for us.
Because there’s nothing like familial cannibalism to bring the gang together.
My 3-year-old daughter has never fully understood Christmas. Sure, Audrey enjoyed the presents, treats, and lights in the past, but there was no real anticipation for her. All the fun just happened, and that was enough. Now that she’s three however, a strong sense of excitement has set in. She knows Christmas is coming. She knows she will get presents. She knows she will get candy and treats. And she knows Santa Claus is coming. It’s fun! But it also got me wondering…
How much about Santa Claus does she really understand? I sat down with her yesterday to find out.
It’s Halloween Time at the Miller Home. I’ve got my front yard all decorated with spooky bits. My living room is adorned with spooky bits. And there are spooky bits in the kitchen too, thanks to my ingenious idea to make jack o’ lanterns out of construction paper with my 2-year-old Audrey.
It was pretty simple really. I cut out the shapes and had Audrey glue them together. It was an easy, mostly clean way of spending some time together while also preparing for the holiday. Just as I had planned. Genius! One thing I hadn’t planned on, however, was that Audrey would immediately identify a handful of the pumpkins as looking like her closest family members.
Let’s psychoanalyze her choices, shall we?
So after many late nights spent sweating over a hot computer, here it is: my first “drawing” for my newborn son. Like with my art for Audrey, I kept up the timeless theme of exploration! And, as you can see, it’s full of hot air. Just like me.
Hope you like it!
So a package arrived the other day from my Aunt Claire. Like most parcels these days, it mostly included stuff for my soon-to-arrive son and already well established daughter. Amongst this particular treasure trove was a book. An Australian book to be exact. And inside said book was a note; a request to review it right here in this ol’ blog o’ mine.
Challenge accepted Claire.
Now if you’ve read my previous book reviews you know that I often find myself reading the same books over, and over, and over again. It can get to be tiresome. And as a result, I have learned to be a bit critical with their content, ranking them on the following dad-centric criteria:
- How fun is it to read?
- What is the quality of the artwork?
- How high is the reading level?
If a book scores highly in all three, I’m much more likely to indulge Audrey’s book reading whims and drive a particular book into the ground. So with that in mind, let’s peck our way into Sheena Knowles’s “Edward the Emu” and see what tasty nuggets we find inside.