The Weight of the World

Thomas woke up early this morning to go to the bathroom. He likes his sleep, and often on occasions like this he has one complaint or another; usually about how tired he is, or how the light is too bright. This morning, though, he had something else on his mind. He used his usual early-morning plaintive wail, but the words took me by surprise.

"I don't know what to do with my life."

Did I hear that right? He repeated it. Yes, that's what he said. I didn't know what to tell him. I certainly wasn't prepared for a statement like that before his third birthday.

Knock, Knock

Here's a joke my nephew Paul told. I'm pretty sure he made it up on the spot.

Knock, knock
Who's there?
Cow.
Cow who?
Why do I have to live in a barn?

Vienna Boy's Choir

We saw the Wiener Sängerknaben, aka the Vienna Boy's Choir, last night at the PAC. Specifically, the Mozartchoir -- they have four different touring choirs. They were most entertaining. We were trying to count the different languages they used in the performance. Off the top of my head, I remember German, of course, French, English, Chinese, Spanish, and Hungarian.

One of the soloists reminded me of Alfalfa from the Little Rascals. He had a fantastic voice and seemed to be a born entertainer. Another of the boys played a variety of percussion instruments throughout the concert, and for the encore came out on stage with an accordion and a very serious look on his face. He practically brought the house down with his performance. All in all, a terrific evening of music, and lots of fun.

Trickery

We're trying to cure Thomas of his preference of snacks over meals. Today at lunch, he was a little less than enthusiastic about his burrito. Tami sized up his progress, and asked him to take four more bites.

"One." he said, taking a bite. Then another bite: "Four."

The Old Grandpa

Thomas was watching me shave the other day, and declared "When I'm a daddy, I'm going to shave my whiskers!"

He thought for a moment, and said "What will you do when I'm a daddy?"

I said "I'll do grandpa things, because when you become a daddy, that will make me a grandpa."

After another thoughtful pause, he asked "What will we do with the old grandpa?"

Pinkeye

Johanna's finally getting over her conjunctivitis. She's not sleeping so much, and no longer looks like she was in a fight. I admit, with a little guilt, that there was something nice about that two-hour nap she took on Tuesday while I held her. It was only the illness that made it happen.

Itzhak Perlman

We saw Itzhak Perlman perform last night at the South Dakota State University Performing Arts Center. Anyone who knows where that is might ask "Huh? How did that happen?" Yes, Perlman played in this small town, and we were in row H center. We had terrific seats, and I found the performance to be spellbinding.

I'm no acoustical engineer, but I thought the violin sounded great and the piano accompaniment (Rohan De Silva) sounded a bit muddy. My friend Dave, who has a better ear than I, was in the front row of the balcony, and had the same impression. De Silva is obviously a wonderful musician, and I wish the sound of that Steinway had been a lot clearer, but face it -- we came to hear Perlman play his fiddle, and it sounded very good indeed.

Twice the audience applauded in mid-piece. I guess we hicks from the plains don't know Adagio from Allegro (or from Pistachio, as Dave says).