Miscellaneous news from here:
E’s Bollywood dance class will have their first recital in two weeks. And when Babcia returns to Poland from Singapore in late February, E. will go too, returning to us alongside Uncle P. six weeks later.
Once carved, it took an astonishing twenty-four hours for our North American pumpkin (purchased at great expense to both us and the global environment) to develop a thick fur of green mold and collapse, its smile folding in like a very old toothless person. I don’t think we’ll try to replicate any other temperate zone holidays while we are here… feels wrong.
A. has progressed far enough in his marathon training now to require squirt packs of flavored energy gel. Meaning he runs farther than is safe to go without hydration.
They say potty training tends to finally stick around the third birthday and DAMN if Ursula is not right on schedule; this very week she seems to have achieved mastery.
The story of Tippety-Witchit made E. cry — actually weep — in a cafe over the weekend. It’s not a terribly sad tale but when the mother cat is transformed into china by a witch, E. just cried and cried.