D1 awoke this morning asking us, "Did you see the balloons?" I guess she thought the Birthday Fairy had put them there. (I'm starting to understand the appeal of the whole Santa Claus thing.) Having a three year old is great fun. Just old enough to enjoy everything wholeheartedly and without a trace of self-consciousness.
We'd make a lousy credit card ad, though. Balloons and streamers: $3 (with lots left or reusable for subsequent birthdays). Homemade cake decorated with leftover Halloween candy: maybe $2? Game of hunt-the-button: $0. Best birthday party ever, priceless.
With summer comes flies. This brings out DOB's latent hunting instincts. Every evening after dark he girds on his fly swatter, turns out all but one of the lights, and goes forth to conquer. We have division of labor when it comes to insect slaying--I kill the spiders (which he finds creepy); he kills the flies (which move too fast for me). It seems to me that if I killed fewer spiders they would eat more flies, but he doesn't see it that way. I am relegated to clearing the body from the fields, a messy and inglorious job seldom commemorated in the movies.
Our trip will involve moving three time zones later, and also a switch from workaday time to vacation/visiting time, which is more like four or five time zones later. Anticipating the trauma this will wreak upon small children, we've been trying to gradually move meals and naptimes later and later. Unfortunately the rest of the city has not moved along to accommodate us. I am getting tired.