Tuesday, June 28, 2011
It Was A Tie-Dye Day
Oh my. Even though the boy and I had a good nap, I feel certain we will both sleep well tonight. If you look closely at the pictures of Owen's face, you will get a clue about the heat and humidity here today.
Of the summer.
And part of the spring.
And yes, sometimes...winter.
Not often though, in winter.
Here's Owen putting an egg in my pocket. We also put four tomatoes and a half of a sleeve of Ritz crackers in my pockets. I have BIG pockets. Our egg ritual goes as follows:
Go to hen house to look for eggs.
Carefully check for snakes.
Lean over nesting boxes. Comment on the poop.
Find egg. Hopefully. If egg(s) is found, exclaim excitedly!
Let Owen hold egg.
Owen puts egg in Grandmother's pocket and it is thus transported to the kitchen where it is moved to a bowl.
Owen pushing a plastic container. It does have wheels at one end. He is a hard worker.
Owen in the garden, demonstrating how to snap beans.
He never really ate lunch but he did consume raw beans, cherry tomatoes, Ritz crackers, a few bites of the carrot he was carrying to give to the mule, and some smoothie.
I think he'll live.
Cucumber blossoms. Of course.
Owen has discovered how to get into the little closet under the stairs. You cannot believe the quantity of shredded wrapping paper in there. The mice have been very, very busy this year. I need to clean it out.
I also need to wash the dogs, finish the laundry, thaw the chicken, pick the eggplant and pepper for tonight's garden medley, and oh hell, I don't know what all.
Wrap Mr. Moon's birthday presents. Well, that problem is taken care of. I let Owen have the only paper that would have been appropriate for the wrapping to draw on. All yard and a half of it. He wanted it, I gave it to him.
Are grandmothers more lenient or just too tired to say no?
Hell if I know.
Owen isn't sure either. He's just happy about it, whichever. Because he knows damn well that if he just asks, Mer-Mer gives. Or if he wells up in sobs which he is learning to do to get sympathy. Or fake coughs to distract me from getting him to sleep. Or tells me he has ants on him for the same reason.
But really. Could you tell this pretty, dirty, sweaty, sweet boy no?
I can't. It works out. I spoil him and he hugs me and says, "Squeeze!" and then he does.
Fair is fair.
I hate wrapping presents anyway.
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My grandmother used to let me get away with some fun stuff, too - some of the best memories of my life. Owen is a lucky and very blessed little boy!ReplyDelete
Silver foil! Or grease proof paper (baking parchment?) with stamps or stickers on. Necessity is the mother of invention, they say.ReplyDelete
AA- And that is why there are grandmothers.ReplyDelete
Jo- Oh, sure. Whatever. I just don't like to wrap.
Beth- The one next door. I do not have a mule or goats or a turkey or a donkey but my neighbors do, which is even better.
I do that ants on me thing too but it never works.ReplyDelete
Madame King- It didn't work for Owen either.ReplyDelete
I've said it before, but he's the cutest dang boy, outside of my own, that I've ever seen.ReplyDelete
It is hot here. Owen looks hot and sweaty too. Hoping for rain again.ReplyDelete
His lunch sounded pretty good to me. At least you didn't feed him potato chips and Oreos (even though I would be happy to have either right now).ReplyDelete
I think Bop might like that wrapping paper that Owen decorated.
Ah, the fakies are usually so good for a laugh. Fake cough, fake laugh, fake ants.ReplyDelete
I cannot wait to be a grandmother- it seems like such a relaxed thing next to motherhood and OH SHIT I'M RUINING HIM.
Thank you for sharing Owen today. :)
owen is harry potter. i'm just saying. don't be surprised when he gets an owl telling him that he's been accepted to hogwart's school of witchcraft and wizardry. and also, don't be jealous.ReplyDelete
My mom and dad let my kids do whatever they want. My dad is really bad. Of them many thousands of things he has let me kids do that made me gasp, my favourites are letting them drive. No, not while on his lap. He was in the back seat! Of course they were a million miles from nowhere but dear god!ReplyDelete
He taught them how to make a camp fire with a freaking blow-torch and gasoline.
My mom lets them eat whatever they want. She thinks it is hilarious when any of the grandchildren are mouthy.
These people were not my parents.
Poor Owen, he looks so hot. I love that he is "working". You must sleep like the dead after he goes home Mer-Mer. :-)
I don't believe anyone can eat properly in the heat anyway. I think he did pretty well. We just had two hot days (now back to cold rain) and Charlie hardly ate at all.ReplyDelete
It's the prerogative of grandmothers to celebrate their grandchildren, Ms Moon. I say to celebrate rather than to indulge or spoil, but the meaning might be the same if viewed from the negative.ReplyDelete
Still I agree with you, how can you say no to such a child from such a relationship?
I'll bet his mother and father are better at saying 'no', though.
Love the photos!ReplyDelete
Wrapping gifts is boring as shit. Besides, the cats tend to help me and tear holes in the wrap. IT'S THE THOUGHT! Fuck it.
Elizabeth- He's in the upper echelons of cuteness. At least that's what I think.ReplyDelete
Syd- He was. Poor child. He was. So was his grandmother.
Mel's Way- I don't even have any Oreos. I wish I did. That paper is ripped, torn, and in the recycle.
See Kate Run- Not my job not to ruin him. Ha!
daddy b- Okay. But he and Waylon will be getting their owl's on the same day. You know they will. Oh Lord, won't we miss them when they're away at Hogwarts? We better start saving for magic wand purchases now.
By the way- I miss your guts.
Birdie- Ha! Gasoline and a blow-torch That's the BEST!
Mwa- Yes. It does get too hot to eat.
Elisabeth- Good choice of reframing word. I love it! And yes, his parents do say "no" to him and even I do occasionally if he's about to do something potentially life-threatening.
Ms. Bastard-Beloved- Cats know what wrapping paper is all about and should be used for.
This magical child is definitely above the 99th percentile in cuteness. Can you just imagine him when he is 3 or 4...it's gonna be cuteness overload.ReplyDelete
Owen's face is a picture. I bet he loves you to bits. What a brilliant grandma he has xxReplyDelete