This was supposed to be a 7 Quick Takes post (once upon a time) but I never got around to finishing it. Blame the baby. Blame my sleep-deprived existence. Blame the late-night distractions of the Internet.
(When in doubt, always blame the Internet.)
So. Rather than leave this semi-complete post languishing in my drafts folder, I’m going to turn it into a story instead.
A story with photos!
My story begins with a trip to a museum–a Russian museum, to see some dolls. These were not just any dolls, either. They were matryoshka and they were amazing.
I so regret that you weren’t there with us.
Here are some coloring pages to make up for it.
(Pssst. We weren’t supposed to take photos at the museum but I did. Just one!)
(There now. I’ve confessed it.)
After we’d looked at all the matryoshka, we walked around to see the paintings. Oh how I love me a good oil painting! Suddenly one of the children from our group reached out to touch the nubby surface of a Russian landscape, and you could almost hear the collective gasp.
You can’t blame the kid for trying, can you?
I explained to Will how the oil from our skin can do damage to the painting. “Then you’d have to buy it,” I joked. “And hang it in your bedroom.”
“And no one else would ever see it,” my daughter Angela intoned.
You remember Angela, of course.
She’s a handful.
Angela’s the kind of kid that will hear something once and repeat it, six months later. For example: “This lasagna tastes like compost.” I’m pretty sure that one came straight out a Calvin and Hobbes book but she still had to leave the dinner table for it.
Also this week, I needed to take Felicity to the dermatologist.
Poor Sweetie. She has a wart the size of Houston on her knee.
The doctor, a beautiful and bubbly Asian woman who looked to be all of 23, said, “You can take care of this at home, you know!” No, I didn’t, which is why we were there. The doctor said that we could either treat the wart aggressively with an over-the-counter product, or we could cover it with duct tape until it starts to dissolve. (You were right, Jamie!)
So that is what we’ve been doing. For her part, Felicity has been a good sport about the square of teal-covered duct tape on her knee, though sometimes the stinging bothers her.
I told her it hurts when Lord Voldewart is near.
She rolled her eyes at me.
Moving on to daughter Cate.
Isn’t she cute? I call her “Cindered Ella.”
The reason behind her smudgy face is this:
Home Improvement! And high time.
Cate has allergies, you see–severe allergies to things like pollen and dog dander (no longer a problem, sigh) and dust. Given that this is what we found under the living room carpet when we ripped it out:
…Cate is extremely thankful that we are transitioning over to hard wood.
So is Angela, my tiny dancer. There is nothing like a nice hard floor, you see, to practice one’s Flamenco dancing.
Here is what the (nearly) completed floor looks like:
One room down and several to go…all in God’s good time.
And hey, guess what? It’s almost Easter! It is very nearly almost Easter–so close, in fact, that I am going to wish you a happy one.
And I’m going to reopen comments, too.
Have a blessed Easter, everyone!
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