Random Silliness

I'll be the first to admit, I don't always understand my son. But he's dedicated, and quite convinced he's going places, so generally I just let him be and trust he'll know when he gets there...

This evening the kids managed to talk Mommy into letting them help with dinner. The project negotiations resulted in them landing a lucrative "fruit salad" contract which occupied them for quite a while this evening with no significant adult supervision. Their definition of fruit is, shall we say, non-standard, but again, who are we to impose our preconceived notions of fruit on others. The gourmet offering at the table consisted of the scrappings of a half-dead watermellon, the bruised and mangled carcass of one sorely victimized apple, and a pound or two of roughly hacked up baby carrots. The appearance of the "salad" suggested that lots of probably grubby fingers had been well over each and every piece. But, of course, it was the most sublime culinary experience Stacy and I have ever endured, or so we gushed.