Thursday, September 23, 2004


One of the very first words Chase learned to say was, “Papa.” Each morning he would run (toddle) through the front door yelling, “Papa!” Then the rest of the time I spent getting ready for work he was my shadow, saying Papa…Papa….Papa, Papa, PapaPapaPapaPapa….

And if I wasn’t paying enough attention to him, the Papa’s just got louder and louder until I did. It could get really, really irritating. Distracting. And irritating.

Did I mention how irritating it was?

God, I miss hearing it.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Medical facts...

The capacity of a four year old's bladder is exactly 17.2 miles.

On the road again...

On our way to Sea World a while back, we’d made a pit stop and I was walking from the back of the Texaco. Before I could get to the counter, Ganma must have come in with Tate for snacks because I heard him proclaim loudly, “Papa gots gas!” To which the teenager behind the counter lean over and replied, “Yeah, kid, I have the same problem with my Granpa when I ride with him. It helps if you crack one of the windows.”

*sigh* The rest of the way to the park, I had to listen to a window whistle.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Somewhere to start.

One afternoon I was sitting in the living room with one eye on the news and the other on Tate coloring at the coffee table, when Ganma came in and asked how his day had been.

With a heavy sigh, he just kept coloring and said, “You know, Ganma? Some days I have good days and some days I have bad days. *sniff* But some days stuff just happens and I lose all my tabs.”