The Tartine baker opened a bakery in our neighborhood and Laurea could barely sleep she was so excited. Literally more excited than the day before our wedding.

dad

To be fair, this was a tiny inert pumpkin she painted last year in a chance encounter at a midtown Whole Foods, so it really has served its time. But Halloween!!!

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A visit to the cooking class by esteemed fifth grade homeroom teacher who was “very full”.

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She bravely carried ten pounds of laundry four blocks home, because I didn’t leave my shit all over the house while Laurea was gone.

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I spent ninety minutes yesterday morning trying to convince Kina to have a lazy day, and she just railroaded me into a sort of low budget Tron experience that unleashed every milligram of adrenaline in my body. I am grateful to our esteemed publisher.

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She kept folding and unfolding this stickie all day, fretting over the time we lost waiting for the L train.

We did it all—and came in shy by only 30 minutes by the end.

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The teens of District 14 had a lot to say about middle school recess, and Kina was eating it right up.

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She counted 19 stars (or satellites) as she wondered out loud about the color of the night sky in the countryside.

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Typically, when Laurea leaves town, I take over the role of Chief Snuggle Officer at bedtime, but Kina insists she no longer requires an acting CSO. This leaves more time for me to write this newspaper, but also makes me slightly sad. I am living with it.

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Taking a chance on postponing homework seems to be paying off.

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Laurea leaves for one day and I am already behind on posting. let’s just take care of our problems!

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We have in the past suggested that we would chaperone the dance next June disguised as shrubs, but it’s so much better if you imagine the Jollibee doing backspins in the middle of the gymnasium.

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Sorry so late. Very tired.

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And I thought my mac and cheese pancakes were top of the sleepover heap.

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You know it’s serious when she adds the thumb to the pinky swear. (In this case, I swore to put things away after I use them, and to push in my chair promptly, because it stresses her out to see it crooked, and it’s my job to fix it, not hers.)

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I think this will go better, but it is taking every ounce of our restraint not to ask her whether she has brushed yet.

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Too far to walk, too close to drive. That’s bus distance.

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Ideally, she would say something in a non-yelling way, and then we would be able to talk about why it is that my asking if she’s ready for her toothbrush sends her into a whirling rage, but we take it one day at a time here.

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Our marriage is old enough to vote and twice as old as our esteemed publisher. We went for a float last night in celebration. Kina made frogs.

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Kina loves walking around at night. So do we. We can always get a new card.

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