The Bubonic Snowflake & other perils of Snowpocalyse 2013
The Snowpocalypse is upon us. When The Five-Year-Old and I heard that Governor Patrick had ordered the roads in Boston had closed to all non-emergency travelers,…
If The Five-Year-Old ran the Superbowl…
The Five-Year-Old, changing into pajamas after staying up very late to watch the first half of the Superbowl last Sunday: “Mommyo, the Kitty Superbowl was today.”…
The Five-Year-Old out in the world
Daddyo was out on a hike with The Five-Year-Old one day last fall, when suddenly she stopped and squatted in the grass.
In which The Five-Year-Old tries to come to terms with Daddyo’s Very Great Age
It’s been quiet around here lately, but that’s only because I’ve been sidetracked by work on my book. Things will get back to normal next week…
In which The Five-Year-Old explains how to pick a great book
The Five-Year-Old visits her school library every week. And every week she comes home with a simply fabulous book. Meanwhile, I’ve been lugging home dud after…
In which The Five-Year-Old celebrates an unexpected windfall
In which the Five-Year-Old finds a new use for an old baby names book.
“Mommyo, why aren’t you a Star Wars fan?”
The Five-Year-Old, out of the blue: “Mommyo, why aren’t you a Star Wars fan?” Mommyo, defensively: “I am a fan. Who told you I wasn’t?” The…
If The Five-Year-Old throws you a party, it will include puppies…
If The Five-Year-Old throws you a party, there will be dancing, cupcake making, a surprisingly intense Bendominoes tournament, and snacktime (aka cupcake eating). And no doubt, once The Five-Year-Old reads today’s Caterpickles, there will also be puppies for rent. That’s right, it is now possible to rent puppies by the hour in some parts of the United States.
The Five-Year-Old sings again
Overheard on a recent car ride… The Five-Year-Old, melodically: ♩ ♫ “Birdie, birdie, look at you. You can tweet, but you can’t chirp too.” ♫ ♩…
In which The Five-Year-Old is irritatingly wise beyond her years
Scene: Mommyo, sleeping in after a rare night out. The Five-Year-Old walks into our bedroom and shakes my shoulder gently (for her). I pretend to keep…
CATERPICKLES 