This poor creature appeared in the grass near the swimming pool this afternoon. After suffering all sorts of indignities, dunkings, and dewinging it was finally set free in the garden. I’m not sure this one will be making it back to Mexico City with the rest of the flock this fall. Misha was feeling sorry for the harm she may have caused, watching it try to expand folded wet wings over and over nearly brought a tear to her eye.
She asked me this morning, “Dad, where did you get that box of chicken wheaties?”
Today officially marks the begining of summer in Minneapolis. We had the pool filled all weekend as the temp broke 90 two days in a row. Misha and Luca discovered the pleasure of corn on the cob roasted on the grill. They even managed to share one or two bites.
Misha’s artistic achievements are soaring to new heights. I’ve started to ask her to title her brightest works, and lately she’s throwing out some wild ones. We cheered and marched around the house singing “Ha-Ma’-Na-Ka-Bah’-Nit” while ten inches of snow piled up outside today.
Misha has discovered a talent that will surely take her far in life.
The other day, Misha was riding in the car with my parents when on the radio a discussion of GWB’s state of the union address was underway. My mom made some scathing remark about our witless leader, and Misha leapt to his defense. “Bush is our president, and he’s a good man!” My mom, astonished by Misha’s strong feelings about it, responded, “But Misha, he’s made some terrible decisions and lead our country into a horrible war, and he’s stealing oil from the Iraqis!”
“No he’s not” insisted Misha, “He’s a good man!”
Now I knew that Karl Rove is a sneaky SOB, but I had no idea that he has figured out how to get into the head of my three year old daughter. We will be investigating this matter thoroughly, and possibly convening a bipartisan commission.
An actual conversation I had with Misha at the dinner table tonight. I asked, “How was school today?” She got all excited and said, “Daddy, do you know who I saw there today?” “No, who?” I replied. “Jesus!” She was beaming. “What was he doing?” I inqired. “He was playing guitar.” She explained.
I’m afraid she may be confusing Jesus with Murray from the Wiggles.