Friday, August 26, 2005
More of the Darndest Things
On the way to school this morning:
Mommy, I know a new bird.
You do?
Yes, a cedar waxwing.
Oh?
Do you know what's different about a cedar waxwing?
No, Max, I really don't.
They feed some of their food to other cedar waxwings.
Why do you suppose they do that, Max?
Because maybe they have too much food.
It's kind of them to share their food, isn't it?
Yes.
Would you be willing to share some of your food,Max?
NO WAY!
(So much for "teachable moments.")
*****
In the last couple of weeks, Max has become an exuberant builder of blocks and legos and lincoln logs. This afternoon his construction prowess took an unexpected turn: I was summoned to witness a tower of dinosaurs that he'd somehow managed to assemble. A large T-rex was riding on the back of a brachiosaurus, a parasauralophus protruding from its jaws. A small brontosaurus was perched atop the brachiosaurus' head. The brachiosaurus' back was nearly invisible, thanks to two dozen dinosaurs of various shapes and sizes protruding from one another at angles in seeming defiance of gravity. The jumble appeared to be an odd experiment in structural engineering. I was curious about Max's construction techniques.
Max, how did you get all the dinosaurs to balance like that?
With my imagination.
*****
When Max awoke up from a nap (small miracles!) this afternoon, he was despondent. He padded into the living room where I was working, curled himself into a compact lump on the floor, and began to sob.
You're not my friend any more!
Why is that?
You hurt my feelings.
I didn't intend to. How did I do that?
I wanted to stay at school. I'm going to run away.
Oh, no! I'll miss you. Where are you going?
To my room. I'm going to close my door.
*****
With increasing frequency, Max and Reed entertain themselves and each other, and nowhere is this more true than the bathtub, particularly with bubbles added. If I'm lucky, bathtime is self-contained amusement for a good half-hour, and I can sit nearby and read while they play. Good for all concerned.
I was immersed in post-revolutionary France when I looked up from my book to find Max standing in the tub, relieving himself into the red stacking cup. Ordinarily, Max would get out of the tub to use the more traditional appliance, but it just happened to be the perch on which I was engrossed in my reading.
I asked Max what he was doing, although frankly it was pretty self-explanatory, and after he'd described the nature of his dilemma and the solution at which he'd arrived, he announced, "I'm proud of myself! I used my brain to figure it out! "
Mommy, I know a new bird.
You do?
Yes, a cedar waxwing.
Oh?
Do you know what's different about a cedar waxwing?
No, Max, I really don't.
They feed some of their food to other cedar waxwings.
Why do you suppose they do that, Max?
Because maybe they have too much food.
It's kind of them to share their food, isn't it?
Yes.
Would you be willing to share some of your food,Max?
NO WAY!
(So much for "teachable moments.")
*****
In the last couple of weeks, Max has become an exuberant builder of blocks and legos and lincoln logs. This afternoon his construction prowess took an unexpected turn: I was summoned to witness a tower of dinosaurs that he'd somehow managed to assemble. A large T-rex was riding on the back of a brachiosaurus, a parasauralophus protruding from its jaws. A small brontosaurus was perched atop the brachiosaurus' head. The brachiosaurus' back was nearly invisible, thanks to two dozen dinosaurs of various shapes and sizes protruding from one another at angles in seeming defiance of gravity. The jumble appeared to be an odd experiment in structural engineering. I was curious about Max's construction techniques.
Max, how did you get all the dinosaurs to balance like that?
With my imagination.
*****
When Max awoke up from a nap (small miracles!) this afternoon, he was despondent. He padded into the living room where I was working, curled himself into a compact lump on the floor, and began to sob.
You're not my friend any more!
Why is that?
You hurt my feelings.
I didn't intend to. How did I do that?
I wanted to stay at school. I'm going to run away.
Oh, no! I'll miss you. Where are you going?
To my room. I'm going to close my door.
*****
With increasing frequency, Max and Reed entertain themselves and each other, and nowhere is this more true than the bathtub, particularly with bubbles added. If I'm lucky, bathtime is self-contained amusement for a good half-hour, and I can sit nearby and read while they play. Good for all concerned.
I was immersed in post-revolutionary France when I looked up from my book to find Max standing in the tub, relieving himself into the red stacking cup. Ordinarily, Max would get out of the tub to use the more traditional appliance, but it just happened to be the perch on which I was engrossed in my reading.
I asked Max what he was doing, although frankly it was pretty self-explanatory, and after he'd described the nature of his dilemma and the solution at which he'd arrived, he announced, "I'm proud of myself! I used my brain to figure it out! "
2 Comments:
It's good to see that Max has intuited the concept of "field expedient."
In school, we used to joke that the only way to make certain architectural fantasies stand up would be by using the elusive Sky Hook. Balancing a complex structure purely on the strength of one's imagination is SO much better.
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