Sun. afternoon, after chatting with other parents at birthday party: “Wow, spending time with fellow adults is great.”
Sun. evening, after Zoom siblings’ game night: “Why don’t I do this more often?”
Mon. morning, barely functional from not enough sleep: “Oh, right.”
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Duolingo is one of those apps I really loved once but now can’t see as anything but creepy adware. It’s hard to complain when it’s teaching kiddo more French than I ever managed to, but I still worry I’ve sold her soul to that little green owl.
Kiddo is expressing her distaste for her “read aloud” homework by putting a lot of obviously false enthusiasm into her performance.
Kiddo, covering up one of the tines on a fork: “Look, now it’s a threek!”
Kiddo, putting away laundry: “My sweater! Come feel its soft wrath!”—
“Aw man, I’m not as good as catching flying socks as I am at catching a frisbee.”
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