Testing the Parents
The Saint says I must tell you this story, and we all know that when the Saint tells me to do something, I do it. (And she's helping me tell it right now.)
So, Middle Child (he who loves quantum physics and existential philosophy) had a math test the other day. He gets (needlessly) all stressed out about these things.
He came home yesterday and said, "Wanna know what I got on my math test?"
Of course we said yes.
"Well, first of all, we had to correct our mistakes on the test. And so all the other kids corrected theirs, but I didn't. Wanna know why?" (*head cocked to the side and dimples aglow*)
He didn't let us answer.
"Because I got 100."
And then he cackled wildly. We laughed, too.
Speaking of Middle Child, he and the Saint went to the Haunted House at church last night. Middle Child had a blast, even though he was scared to death and wouldn't let go of the Saint. Daughter went to the same Haunted House earlier in the evening, except that her version was lights on. She forgot about the "fun" part, buried her face in the Saint's shoulder, and screamed.
I think she'll be recovered in time to trick or treat as a princess (Middle Child is Dracula). My only hope about Halloween: That the World Series is over by then. I promised the kids I'd take them out, but I don't want to miss a single pitch.
Adam
So, Middle Child (he who loves quantum physics and existential philosophy) had a math test the other day. He gets (needlessly) all stressed out about these things.
He came home yesterday and said, "Wanna know what I got on my math test?"
Of course we said yes.
"Well, first of all, we had to correct our mistakes on the test. And so all the other kids corrected theirs, but I didn't. Wanna know why?" (*head cocked to the side and dimples aglow*)
He didn't let us answer.
"Because I got 100."
And then he cackled wildly. We laughed, too.
Speaking of Middle Child, he and the Saint went to the Haunted House at church last night. Middle Child had a blast, even though he was scared to death and wouldn't let go of the Saint. Daughter went to the same Haunted House earlier in the evening, except that her version was lights on. She forgot about the "fun" part, buried her face in the Saint's shoulder, and screamed.
I think she'll be recovered in time to trick or treat as a princess (Middle Child is Dracula). My only hope about Halloween: That the World Series is over by then. I promised the kids I'd take them out, but I don't want to miss a single pitch.
Adam
Labels: Daughter, Middle Child, The Saint
posted by Adam Hurtubise at 6:10 PM
1 Comments:
Hey, a belated congrats to you and Boston on the series. Not much of one, but at least you ended up on the winning side. I thought about popping over to Denver and trying to get a ticket on the street, but after that blowout...didn't seem worth it.
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