Making the rounds in the blog world today is an interesting Scientific American article about how and when young children learn to understand symbols.
Of course, the article got its own front-page post on MetaFilter, and the first commenter to that thread made a hilarious observation: “Even some older kids still miss the point”
Poor Samuel has lost all four of his upper and bottom front teeth, though the bnew bottom teeth are coming in pretty quickly (Aside: isn’t that the cutest face you’ve ever seen? I’m not biased or anything)
Katie and I have a long history of adapting songs to fit out pets. Two of my favorites: our former cocker spaniel had problems with his anal glands and would frequently drag his ass across the floor (gross, I know). This action became known as the ‘Butt Scootin’ Boogie’. And at one point, we lived in a two-story townhome; when our 20-pound cat would jump down from the furniture to the floor upstairs, we could hear his landing loudly downstairs, at which point we broke out in ‘I fell the earth move under my feet…’
Thankfully, Samuel’s new kindergarten teacher apparently doesn’t read my blog (like who does?); this morning, she let Samuel into her classroom and she didn’t send me to the principal to have my mouth washed out with soap.
Over at Defective Yeti, Matthew Baldwin has invited his readers to offer dating truisms. One commenter advised, probably wisely: If the guy can’t remember how many girls he’s slept with, that is a good sign that maybe he’s not the one for you.
As someone who has had a very limited number of sexual partners in my lifetime (sorry, no details), this got me wondering about people who’ve slept around a lot: at what point do you quit counting? And if you do remember, how to you decide to answer a new date’s query: to lie and say you don’t remember or to be truthful with a large number? Well, if you’re concerned about the size of the number and decide to lie about it, I imagine you might as well lie and say a much lower number rather than claiming not to remember.
Boy, life complications that I’ve never even considered.
Samuel starts kindergarten this week. In preparation, Katie bought him a new lunchbox and water bottle. The water bottle has a liquid-filled insert that you can put in the freezer, let freeze, and then insert into the bottle to keep your drink cold. Samuel thinks it’s really cool.
I kept referring to the insert as an ‘ice dildo’ due to its shape. Katie suggested I stop using this reference lest Samuel pick up the usage and get expelled from kindergarten before he even gets going.
This is so cool. This guy got photos of a praying mantis that had just caught a hummingbird.
I really want a remote controlled lawnmower! I can picture myself sitting on the deck and sipping a cold margarita while I mow. Unfortunately, it’s still a little out of my price range.
I just completed the audio edition of The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. It’s an ambitious and lyrical exploration of family, history and empire in Africa. It’s an amazing book, though I barely made it all the way through.
We just spent a week in the mountains of New Mexico with no TV, radio, recorded music or computer. It was blissful. I took along a book, some magazines and some needlework, but the most I managed to accomplish was to read a few National Geographic articles. I have little idea what happened in the world last week, and I don’t really care.
Based on that experience, I’m vowing to do the following now:
We’ll see how it goes…
