Yesterday we went to an end-of-the-year celebration at the principal’s house. It was a fun party. At one point, Coco had to use the bathroom and needed me to go with her. Once we got the door closed I said, “I wish there were some sweets at this party.”

“You know what I wish?” Coco asked.

“What?”

“I wish the world was made of marshmellows.”

Earlier in the day, in the 5th grade, Coco was like a celebrity. The children are batty for her. Kids in other classes even knew who she was, mostly because I had passed on advice from her the night before as part of my speech at graduation. Graducation includes “yearbooks” and they hold an ice cream social so that students can sign one anothers books. Well, kid after kid asked Coco to sign!

In the end, I think she signed more books than I did.

I poked my head out of the bathroom this morning because Layr had gone off to the grocery store. Coco was sitting in her beanbag chair watching TV.

“What are you watching, honey?” I asked.

“A show about food. [pause] There are lots of easier ways to grow tomatoes.”

Tonight I brought my dog, Rocky, to Coco the veterinarian. He wasn’t ailing but needed a check-up.

Unfortunately, the vet’s office was not air conditioned, and the patient got pretty overheated. It was a serious appointment, too. He had to be opened up, have a special blood shirt put on and then closed up. There was a lot of checking for blood.

A wrench was tightened around his collar, but the doctor didn’t tell me why.

Apparently, though, Rocky’s leg was broken. It was a good thing the doctor had such late hours. His cast was a lovely boiled-wool slipper with a sheep on it. I’ll have to remember to sign it.

Coco has moved into a new phase of hysterical, uproarious laughter. Last night she watched the 1975 “Strongest Man in the World” movie (which I saw at the drive-in). There were several parts that were highly amusing to her and very earsplitting to me.

Minky said something “funny” in the car the other day, the punch line being “poop.” I asked why poop is funny. She said she thought bathroom words were funny. “Oh,” I said, “what are some other bathroom words?” She thought a moment, then said, “pee”…and “excuse me, I’d like some privacy.” – Dad

I, Daddy, was going to read to Minky tonight. She brought me a cheesy Scoobydoo book. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t ready Scoobydoo. I only read fine literature.” Minky picked another book and we read a while. After lights out, before I left the room, Minky asked, “what do you read?” It took me a moment to understand, then I said “fine literature.” “What does that mean?” she asked. I told her it was wonderful, imaginative, thoughtful books filled with great characters, not books thrown together quickly, where they put a dog or princess on the cover to make kids want to buy them.”
“I don’t like fine literature,” she said. “I like dogs and princesses.”

After a long nap this afternoon, the Minkster is having trouble getting to sleep. I am not making it an easier by standing outside her door, attempting to see if she’s nodded off.

Ten minutes ago it looked like she might have–each night I go into her room to kiss her and whisper “mummy loves you” once she’s asleep–so I ventured in. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw her eyelids twitching. I watched this for upwards of a minute and then leaned over and asked, “are you pretend sleeping?”

Her eyes opened and we both started laughing. “I was waiting for you or daddy to come in,” she replied. “I was really hoping for you.”

More curious than that, as I leaned over to hug her, I felt the 2lb. weights I just bought right next to her.

“Why are these in your bed?” I asked. “I was hiding them from you until morning,” she explained.

Coco just brought her Twilight Turtle downstairs, and, chuckling, told us, “this broke again. Boy, is this family weird!”

When I was a child, I loved hearing my parents tell family stories. Many were hysterical and gave me a glimpse of what my parents and their parents were like as much younger people.

There was a story about my grandmother’s unfortunate trip to the grocery store. As she was shopping, a bottle of liquid soap shattered in the aisle and splattered on her pantyhose. Outside, it was raining. When she left the store, raindrops hit her legs and caused the hose to suds up. According to my mother, it was hilarious.

This afternoon, I told Coco about Larry’s grandmother, “Gram.” She was quite the cleaner and evidently never sat down. To show Coco how gram cleaned, Layr gave a little demonstration: as I took a sip of my milk and set it down, he picked it up right away, and in a very convincingly elderly way, hobbled off into the kitchen.

Coco didn’t quite get it, but Larry made me laugh when he said, “yeah, I  got her genes pretty much.” The joke there is that neither of us is particularly neat.

Coco asked, “but how did you get them off her?”

Minky has picked up some expressions lately that we’ve been discouraging. “What the hell,” is high on the list…doubly so while her paternal Grandma was visiting. So there we are, in the living room with Gram, and Minky points to something and says, “what the hell!” I (Dad) immediately and strongly reprimand her and she bursts into tears. She does this sometimes when she feels yelled at. Her mother tries to comfort her, telling her that daddy loves her even when he yells. Minky says that’s not what she’s upset about. “I just really wanted to say, ‘what the hell!’