I think she felt a little cheated out of the earthquake experience when her chaperones had to tell them it happened at all.

dad

I mean, it might be nice to have some assigned lunch buddies and a carton of chocolate milk.

dad

“Make sure you get dressed with me tomorrowwww,” she muttered as she drifted off to sleep.

dad

When I was a kid, my dad had a manual typewriter that he kept in a room downstairs. This was obviously before computers and home-office electric typewriters, and it sat on his desk largely unused (as far as I could tell). There was one day, though, when I heard him clacking away at the keys, pushing back the carriage return and rolling the platen to release the paper—the first edition of a publication he had titled The Churchill Downs Bugle (after the street we lived on, not the horse race). It’s hard for me to remember, at this age, the specific headlines of that newspaper, and the issues that followed it, but I remember reading it over and over and laughing at his puns and the stories about me and my siblings. It felt special to see myself on a page—to see what my dad saw that was funny about me.

Almost four years ago, I joked with my dad that I had surpassed his output as a newspaper magnate, which was a bit unfair, as The Churchill Downs Bugle contained fully reported and written-through articles with actual jokes and was laid out (if I recall correctly) in two columns and was (absolutely) produced on a manual typewriter. By contrast, The Daily Kina is basically three headlines, a few illustrations, and several horizontal lines that suggest the existence of puns.

Nonetheless, The Daily Kina is inspired by The Churchill Downs Bugle in a way. The morning I wrote the first edition, I pulled out a sheet of pink construction paper and some of Kina’s crayons, and I wrote down the thing she had said to her mother just a few moments earlier: “YOU A CHEESE FIEND HUH”—a hilarious and extremely accurate observation. It was Friday, and it was quiet outside the house and quiet inside the house; a pandemic was raging, quietly, outside, and all the playgrounds were shuttered. We had run out of patience with Daniel Tiger (“A Grreat Show”) and I remember feeling the need to memorialize what was happening to Kina, who was only three and had no point of reference for how a reasonable Friday should feel.

It’s kind of shocking how being in elementary school acquaints you with so many more human beings who live nearby. I have lived in this literal apartment for 24 years, and I don’t know that I’ve ever run into nine people I know in a single day in this neighborhood. Seven year olds are wild!

dad

To me, it’s the “and why are you talking about it” that best illustrates the stranglehold Kina has on this house.

dad

Looks like it’s time to do the laundry.

dad

I do not dislike that she thinks of herself this way.

dad

If I were to tell you anything else about the handshake, it would not be a secret handshake.

dad

Matthew, Kina’s swim teacher for the last several months, has not been around for the last five weeks or so. We knew he was an actor and in college, and we assumed that he was simply working on a gig or on the road, but when Laurea asked the lifeguard in passing when Matthew was coming back, her reply was, “He’s not coming back.”

This all happened within earshot of Kina, his most devoted fan, who immediately burst into tears. She has not bonded with either of Matthew’s steady replacements, who are less funny and more intense than Matthew had been. We think she had been counting the weeks until he would return, and learning that he would not return was too much for her to bear.

Laurea convinced her to hop into the pool for a bit, to blow some bubbles and give it a go with her new teacher, but she couldn’t stop crying and eventually asked to leave.

It was too rainy to ride the bike, and the car was locked in the garage, and the L train wasn’t running. A literal perfect storm. Sorry, kid. This is how the pioneers did it.

Gotcha.

dad

Let’s just say I’m not getting a spa treatment anytime soon.

dad

Listen, Mr Ortiz said so, and he knows about these things.

dad

Yes, Kina. Yes, he did.

dad

I could listen to Kina mangle the word “suspicious” for several straight minutes, I love her so.

dad

Our jammie laundry budget is through the roof. Somebody help.

dad

League of extraordinary moms.

dad

I didn’t know what to expect from Storyville Mosquito when my brother invited us to see it, but I can assure you it is not what I would have expected, had I expected anything at all. It’s a beautiful puppet show, a sort of opera, a one-take film, and a chance to see Kid Koala play.

Thanks to Ken for the tickies; it was a real gas. Boo to the spider. Mosquito! Mosquito!

dad

1. She loves setting the table.

2. She once chose her mother’s outfit.

3. She enjoys sweeping.

4. She helps her parents by rolling suitcases at the airport.

   dad