The kids

Eliza and Buzzy are sitting next to me.

"That's quite boring," laughs Eliza in a very "jr. high" laugh.

"Dad! Stop! Buzz laughs like jr. high," she laughs, again, like jr. high.

"Dad! [giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle]" insists Eliza.

Buzz gets up from his chair, "Just keep on laughing," whispers Buzz into Eliza's pierced ears (diamond rectangles)

[more giggles from both]

"Goll, are you writing story?" asks Eliza. {more giggle} "Seriously, are you writing a story?"

"Yes, indeed," I say.

"Yes indeeeeeed," says Eliza in a chipmunk/munchkin/mocking jr. high voice. "Dad! Stop! that offends my soul!"

"He-he-he," laughs Buzz, "chipmunk."

"Hey, I didn't say chipmunk," insists Buzz.

Claire walks into the room with a raspy voice and a wet cloth over her brow to cool off her 100+ fever. "There's a boring game on the t.v." she says.

Buzz sits on my leg and is "itching" his nose.

"Are you picking? I'm going to write that," I say.

"No, dad!" (he says in a mature 4th grade voice) "I wasn't picking, I was doing this." [finger to nose]

Phone rings.

Eliza answers:

"Hello? I can't hear you at all. You're going to what? What about it? I can't! (jr. high voice) I don't know how. Okay. Bye." (sad).

"Dad, stop saying that I have a jr. high voice, it really bugs me. Mom says I have to make a cake."

"You okay Claire?" I ask.

She nods.

Today is Jack's birthday. He's five and . . .

(interrupt) "What kind of cake should I make for Jackson, Dad . . . chocolate?"

Claire coughs (doesn't cover her mouth).

I do love my family.

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p.s. Eliza was sincerely offended that I had said the phrase "jr. high voice" throughout this blog. I do love her, but . . . it's staying.