from whence it comes

We went to the Museum of Natural Science this week and there is a volunteer named Jean-Claude who's been there our last few visits. He is in charge of a table covered with trays of rocks and shells and fossil fragments where kids are encouraged to use tweezers and magnifying lenses to dig and discover. Jean-Claude is stooped, almost gaunt. He has hearing aids in both ears, which seem to work approximately not at all. His English, though perfect, is heavily accented. He really seems to take great pleasure in helping the kids find tiny shells and fossils, holding out his wrinkled palm to receive each new specimen. Harper, as is her wont, had brought a little something with her to the museum. It was the plastic cover from an old thermometer (NOT rectal) and she was using it, she had patiently explained when I asked if it were absolutely necessary that she bring it, as a Special Lens For Dinosaur Viewing. As she busily dug in her tray of fossils, she put her Special Lens near the top of the tray. Jean-Claude happened to spy it as he was helping her put a tiny mollusk shell in a small paper cup. "What is zis?" he asked, puzzled. Oh, she brought that from home, I explained. His hearing aids didn't properly amplify my reply, so I repeated it. Twice. Finally he exclaimed, "Parthenogenesis!" with great delight, and a hearty chuckle.

Later that day we played outside a little while with the hose until the mosquitoes drove us in. We then spent about 15 minutes detangling Harper's hair. She was less than gracious and I reminded her that if she would not insist on spraying the water on her head, the unpleasantness could be avoided. She said, in an accusatory tone, ''It's YOUR fault! For LETTING me!" I don't speak Yiddish, but I'm pretty sure that called for an oy, vey. I only wash her hair once a week because it is quite an undertaking. Around 6 years ago, I babysat for my friends Eugene and Heather who have 5 kids, 4 of whom are daughters with glorious long, golden hair. What Eugene and Heather had NOT told me beforehand was that it was hair washing night. I did my best, but I wouldn't be surprised to find that Cara might still have a small knot at the base of her scalp even now.

One of Hudson's favorite activities this week has been repeating what Harper says. He is not sophisticated enough to be doing it to evoke a response, he just finds her VERY worthy of adoration and emulation. "I don't like repeaters," she said firmly, one morning at breakfast, "I don't want a repeater named Hudson John." Well, I said, you could pretend he is a parrot--like Beau. (Beau belongs to our friend Izzy's grandmother. He hails from the Congo and can meow like a cat AND yell "Halleluia") "Nooo, no.." she said slowly, almost scornfully. "THAT is not pretendable." Here is Beau, helping us celebrate Izzy's birthday today.