So Mr. Crazy starts asking me why he doesn’t go to real school, and why he does homeschool instead, and I explain that the real schools around us aren’t safe, and bad kids would steal his books, food, money, beat him up, AND use bad words on him. He reflects for a while, then asks: “But what if a bad kid comes to our house?” I answer, “Well, use your Karate chop action on him.” Oh how he loved this notion. From there unfolded a thirty minute, action packed monologue about the various ways he would take care of the intruder. “Show me your Kung-Fu stuff!” he cries to Glamor Girl. “My Kung-Fu?” she answers. “Okay: hay-yahhhhh! hay-yahhhhh!”

Wild Girl is feeding herself a cracker. She was into it for about 30 seconds, now it’s boring and too crunchy. I tried giving her a bottle of juice the other day, and she just held the plastic nipple in her mouth, staring at me dumbfounded, no idea what to do. “Suck!” I told her, and made fishy noises. She bit it and pushed it away.

Today we made a book-- we’ve been doing a lot of that lately, where I staple folded printer paper and they draw the pictures and narrate the text-- called MEAT EATERS OF THE CRETACEOUS. They each drew two pictures each, although Glamor Girl drew the cover because she is, frankly, the better artist, and the text includes sentences like Deinodon horridus means “horrifying terrible tooth.”