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Stuck a feather in his cap.

On a routine exploration of the neighborhood today we were fortunate to happen upon a lovely and lonesome feather. This was Knox’s first time seeing one of these in the wild (as it were) and he was very enthusiastic to learn about it’s origin.

“It’s a thing from a bunny!” he chirped.

I explained to him that it came from a bird, the thought of which caused him to quiver with glee.

“What should we do with it Mom? Can I wear it?”

And then, like so many curious little boys that have come before him, he tucked his treasure in the best place he could think of.

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“Do you think the lady bird is sad now Mom?

I’ll be very careful with her fedder and then she can just grow a new one.”

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Next on the day’s nature exploring agenda:

Plant Life According to Knox

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“Seeds (and plants) need Dirt, Water and Poison to grow.”

Two out of three- not too bad.

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“Now, help me dig this hole, Mom”

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“There. That’s my garden.”

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My apologies to Dovie for the involuntary donation-

of her darling Bachelor’s Buttons…

…and her dirt.

We didn’t think you would mind too much.

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Not-so-Secret Indulgence

As I was indulging myself on leftover birthday cake today (despite my best efforts to enjoy this afternoon decadence in secret)- all at once my tranquility was assaulted by the clamorous, curious Knox.

Upon accepting my defeat I invited him to join me and I would share with him a bit of my SECRET confection- AS LONG as he agreed to keep my secret from the other children. Of course he agreed- (ANYTHING for cake!) and the enjoyment commenced.

At first I fed him bites, he briefly complied, but then felt it was HE that should do the feeding. I reluctantly surrendered my fork which he accepted with gusto and began his work.

He proved to be much more capable of  cake handling than I expected him to be, deliberately and gently separating small bites and delivering them in turn to the appropriate destination.

Could it be that I don’t give him enough credit for having some common sense (a concept which seems all too illusive in our household)?

Perhaps.

And then, the very last bite:

“This one’s for you Mom! I know you want it.”

Ahh! My ANGEL! My sweet and thoughtful ray of sunshine!

Be-still my heart, which melts like delicate crystals of snow on a Summer’s day from just a moment’s glimpse of his sublime and heavenly eyes!

He lovingly lifts the last bite of sweetness to my grateful lips and my yearning is at last satiated. As he lowers the now empty utensil, he smiles at me with adoring sincerity and declares:

“You like it so much, Mom…because you’re BIG.”

Buzz: killed

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Get it right MOM!

Today I asked Knox and Georgia if they would like

grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.

Knox raised his eyebrows and gave me that look that says

‘Woman! You’re KILLING me!’

-and in a very resolute and condescending tone replied:

“No Mom! I DON’T want a GIRL cheese sandwich-

I want a BOY cheese sandwich!”

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Pride and Joy

Boys like to brag about their dads.

You know what I mean.

You’ve got your timeless classics such as:

“My Dad is smarter than your Dad.”

or

“My Dad can beat up your Dad”

or

“My Dad can wrestle wild platypus way better than your Dad!”

I like to think that my kids are special when it comes to traditional concepts

with a modern (some would say…bonkers) twist.

Sovery special.

On that note let’s revisit a conversation between three boys.

Boy#1: “My Dad has a new car!”

Boy #2: “My Dad can beat ANY video game! Any video game in the whole galaxy!

Knox: “My Dad is….is… My Dad is GIANT!

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