Laurea and her mother have a hard time with goodbyes. They both put on a good face, but I know it’s hard for them—and so does Kina. She’s always at the ready when Lala pulls away, with a hug and a reminder that they’ll see each other soon, which is true, and it helps. The hug, especially.

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First of all, she no longer calls it “Zentals Park”, but she did make a joke about the fact that she used to call it “Zentals Park” yesterday, so the term is in play. Secondly, I was stunned to learn that Kina knows—apparently instinctively—how to row a boat, despite never having rowed a boat in her life. She is better at rowing than at least one other member of her immediate family! I will not say whom!

It was a beautiful day, there in Zentals Park, with her family and all the disco skaters.

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When either of us wins, we both win, and since there are only two players, it’s basically all just winning.

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The second is a record of how much fun Kina had hanging out with Lala while “parents hie off to Chelsea”, which we did. It was fun, really, for all parties. They had pancakes. We had adult conversation. Nice trade.

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The first of two short missives today—a sort of pairing. This first one is a record of Kina dealing with mild separation anxiety as we pack off for a single overnight in a hotel nearby. She’s used to this, but she wanted us to know how long a day is—which is, apparently, pretty long.

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The grandmother has arrived, and she has been met by a child who can now make a calm request for a bit of quiet together. They love each other very much.

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What are stars made of?

They are all like the sun. Hot gases and stuff. Fire.

Smaller?

Even I have to admit that my ANIK tag is extremely poor. Twenty-seven years in New York City and that’s the best I can do? Shameful.

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I have always liked math. My mother likes math, too, and was always my homework partner when it came to numbers. So it is that I have taken up the mantle and am now Kina’s math homework partner, calculating how many “10 cm rulers” it takes to approximate “Jamie’s” height. It’s fun to see how Kina’s mind works, and good practice for me to step back and stay quiet when she’s thinking. Eventually, she reasons through a problem, which is always very impressive—even if the math is simple. I’m excited to work through this year’s problems with her (math and otherwise), because it reminds me of what it feels like to learn: a little stretchy at the edges, and well-paired with some good silence. Thanks, mom.

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To be fair, I have been looking for a little Quality Time with Kina, who is trying on “what if we just don’t hang out with Daddy” for size. Reading with Mommy, school walk with Mommy, bathtime with Mommy; it adds up (for me and Mommy both). So yesterday, after lunch, when I had to go to the bathroom, Kina came along for first dibs—but was surprised to find that I wasn’t just there for a little chat and gossip. Maybe this is how bathrooms work? A respite for reconciliation? A demilitarized zone for working out our stuff? Restrooms: come for the pee, stay for the quality time.

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Thank you, climate emergency, for sparing us for the latter half of Saturday, so that Kina could hop onto the back of my bike and ride with us out to the West Side Fest (first one, I think?) to see a rapping planet Earth, some double-dutch jumprope, a fully-functional letterpress and screen-printing setup, and God’s Finest Face Painter. Toss in a little pasta and a carousel with no line, and you have the makings of Kina’s favorite weekend in recent memory. We watched the sun set over a playground on the Hudson River and had a nice ride home. The end.

I really love this Parade. Bold background, cut-out pizza cat, glitter glue, and random pepperoni everywhere. Enjoy your week.

I once wrote about a coffee shop that Kina refers to as “cheddar cheese and bacon”, because they sell a breakfast sandwich that I’d refer to as a bacon, egg, and cheese—but I can’t, because I really don’t accept cheddar cheese on a traditional bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. It doesn’t melt properly, it congeals even more poorly after it sort of melts, and it just sort of tastes like acid and salt on a sandwich that, let’s face it, has plenty of salt.

Whenever I have attempted to introduce Kina to a proper bacon, egg, and cheese—which is to say (and I’m not accepting arguments at this time) a sandwich with not-too-overcooked bacon, one egg either fried medium-hard or scrambled (in a pinch), and a single slice of unctuous, gooey, supernaturally-yellow American cheese—my daughter has rebuffed both the sandwich and the father offering it. It is, best I can tell, the fault of the cheese. This is my greatest disappointment as a father.

I’m not entirely sure what cheddar cheese is for, because people who like cheese boards never seem to include a cheddar, and it tends to fail in most cooked applications. A soup, maybe? Some sort of scone? In powdered form, it makes for an outstanding mac and cheese—seen in our third headline today about gentle money. All I know is that cheddar cheese is not designed to melt and has no place on a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. Maybe it’s good on a cold ham and cheese sandwich; I don’t eat them, but it’s a logical fit.

I cannot, in any language known to me, convey sufficiently to you how completely over this rainy season I am. I just want to stop coughing and be dry, and for my family to stop coughing and be dry.

Out!

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I mean, who really knows?

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I can’t remember the first time I experienced déja vu, and I still couldn’t tell you why it happens, but when I saw the look on Kina’s face yesterday morning as she recalled me standing in the precise position I had been standing in, with the same stuffed unicorn pressed to the same burgundy shirt I had been wearing, I saw in her eyes a look of gentle shock and discovery that gave me an unusual view into how she understands the world. Don’t get me wrong—Kina still discovers a lot every day, but it’s been a while since she discovered her own mind in a way that she could put words to. It could, of course, be the case that there is another Kina in another universe with another dad holding another unicorn, and that this rediscovery is all part of a more complex set of coincidences. I guess that’s for me and Kina to figure out later.

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Have we talked about the peanut allergy? Let’s just say it: There’s a peanut allergy, and it’s gotten to the point that we can now safely question the severity of the allergy, which means lots of boring time spent hopefully not having allergic reactions to peanut powder while sitting at the allergist’s office. So far, so good. Bodies are weird. Allergists are great. We all get by.

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To be clear, she crossed the pool the short way several times and without assistance, making her one of the most accomplished athletes I have ever met. Shower her with praise.

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Nicky and Kina are both getting so much bigger and more moodily teenaged in spirit, but they remain just sweet little kids who are really into movies about rural witches and steampunk castles.

What else is there to say here? It’s just rainy. Sorry about the fart.

This morning was a good morning to have nothing much to do, other than dress up like a flight attendant and complain about the cool autumn breeze.

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Today’s edition is all sneaky vibes. Extremely esneeky.

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