Had our signing class today. There was a dad there with his 3 kids (one baby and two kids older than Wee Laddie). I’ve seen them before at other playgroups & stuff. This father is so incredibly strict with his kids. So much so that it actually makes me sad for them. The little baby is all smiley and laughing and stuff… the older kids are very subdued and straight-faced. I can’t help wondering if they were like the baby when they were younger? It sounds like I’m being really judgmental, but this literally happened: Somebody said something to me and I answered. The man’s daughter (who is maybe like 5) said something related, and he told her: “Angel, be quiet. That is not your conversation to have.”
He also made her give back Wee Laddie’s stuffed animal even though I had just told her it was fine for her to hold it because Wee Laddie had decided to share it today. I just feel bad for those kids, having that many rules. Daddio better watch out… when they hit those teen years and decide to rebel? Hoooboy is he ever going to have his hands full then!
I’ve always been a big fan of the dictionary. When we were kids and we’d ask my parents what a word meant or how to spell it, they always said, “Go look it up in the dictionary.” (Complete madness for my dyslexic sister.) I used to always get sidetracked by spotting a word as I flipped through pages, or when one word would make me think of another word. You know, like people do nowadays with surfing the Internet. Well, you know what’s even better than a dictionary? A two-language dictionary. I think if I’m ever stuck on a desert island with just one book, I’d want it to be that. Learn enough words and you can make up your own fantastic stories.
On the homefront, Bob the builder next door is now building a brick grill. I’m in hell.