The other night, Natalie saw a TV commercial which profiled children who are less fortunate than she is. She retreated to her room, returning a few times to confirm how to spell a few words (we didn’t know what she was working on). When she finally emerged 10 minutes later, she had the below envelope filled with change from her piggy bank. A good reminder of true Christmas Spirit…

The moment started innocently enough, Natalie and I going to Bowring Park to hit the playground and feed the ducks. Growing up in a house full of testosterone (I have three brothers), it’s easy to forget the subtle differences between how tasks are approached  by the fairer gender. For example, “feed the ducks” to Natalie was apparently interpreted as: Pretend you’re in a low-budget Judy Garland musical where the lead character mumbles off-tune, defies authority, [...]

When the circus clown dropped one of the balls he was juggling. Natalie, stands up and shouts (with as much sincerity as a 6 year-old can): “That’s OK! We still think you’re doing a great job!”

Natalie doing her rendition of the Dixie Chicks’ “Travelin’ Soldier” with diva outburst mastered when she false-starts (“darn it!”). Hard to believe she’s still looking for a record deal.

Upon driving by a new war memorial being constructed near our home. Natalie: “Mom, is that where the dead soldiers are going to be?” Lisa: “No Natalie, it’s a memorial for the dead soldiers. There won’t be any bodies buried there.” Natalie: *pause* Natalie: “Oh…just heads?”