Three conversations

Deborah and the kids were getting ready to go to Science Central this morning, while I was getting ready to head off for work. (Which is grossly unfair. I want to go to Science Central...) While I was pulling on my socks, Aiden came and found me.

Aiden: Daddy, daddy, daddy, are you going to work?
Me: Yes.
Aiden: OK, just make sure you come home.
Me: OK, Aiden.

It was the sort of thing where you laugh for five seconds, and think for two hours.

* * *

As I was shaking out a bag this morning, something wet and black slipped out, streaked my leg, and made several blots and a lump on the floor.

"Ack! What in the world was that?"

Fiona hurried over and looked at it in fascination.

"It's a splatterpillar!"

I still don't know what it was — or used to be — but Fiona's neologism was certainly apt.

* * *

Aiden: Daddy, daddy, daddy*, would you get me the golf ball from the Everything Room?
Me: What's it doing in there?
Aiden: Sitting still?

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Notes
* Daddy, daddy, daddy: When Deborah reads books, she's largely lost to the world. After some research, we figured out that you have to call her at least three times to actually get her attention. Fiona gets around this by combining a greeting with a flying leap, but Aiden and I resort to the triple hail. Aiden, however, has gotten the idea that this is what you need to do to get anyone's attention, not just Deborah's while she's reading. The fact that he also tends to stutter a bit, and restart his sentences often, makes for some rather recursive conversations.