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Unfucked the dining room table this morning. Natalie desires placemats. “I want our table to be distinguished.” Okay then. “Wanna know why I’m getting a balloon?” Why? “To tie it to my chair. To look distinguished.”

April 18. We just finished this week’s episode of Cosmos. I hope they’ll talk about quarks next week, I say. That’s my favorite. Quarks don’t seem to follow our rules.

Natalie wants to know their names again. Strange, Charm, Up, Down, Top, and Bottom, I say. “I’d be charm, top, and up,” says Natalie. “‘Cause I’m the charm on top of the world.”

Riley, our parrot, bit me. “Ow!” I yelled. “You bitch!”
Natalie: “What’s a bitch?”

<<< SHIT >>>

Me: “It’s the name for a female dog, and it’s not a nice thing to call someone.”
Natalie: “Would you ever call me ‘bitch’?”
Me: “Ummm… …I hope not.”
Natalie: What if you did?”
Me: “I would hopefully say sorry.”
Natalie: “What if you didn’t say sorry?”
Me: “We’d move on, and you’d be okay.”
Natalie: “I don’t like moving on. Sometimes I have to keep the subject up until they say sorry.”

“You think tofu doesn’t have flavor? That’s just a mean compliment.”

Natalie: “What’s Kristi’s job?”
Daddy: “She’s your teacher.”
Natalie: “Really? I thought she was just doing it for fun.”

April 16. We’re explaining Passover. Dad says he used to get a little tipsy from all the wine. Natalie wants to know why she can’t try it, because all the other kids in drama camp are allowed to drink. We say she can, we’ll get some Manischewitz… wait a minute, all the kids in camp are drinking? “Not all the time. Sometimes they’re limited.”

April 14.
Natalie’s in Drama Kids & Kidz Art camp this week. For the Friday show, Natalie volunteered to play guitar in her group’s skit. “And I’m not bringing my book. That’s not talented. This is a talent show.”

Mom: “Can I do your hair?”
Natalie: “Let me think about it. Mm…no. And by no, even if you start doing it, I’ll take a tantrum. So you better not.”

Still April 13. “Doesn’t it feel like a blue and yellow day? Like bluish and yellowish and purplish with a tint of green?”

April 13. Natalie opens the car door into Lark Street and I make a panicked sound. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t know the coast wasn’t clear.”


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