Thanksgiving Week

I.
James turned five yesterday. It was a very James birthday. He laid in bed until we came in to his room at 7:30, I suspect hiding under his covers and grinning for a very long time. Then he charged down the stairs and didn't say anything in the first person for about five minutes, but just let "George" talk about how excited James was to open presents. He opened a bicycle, talked about how it was his favorite color and how he would ride it, and then choked back tears when he realized it was the only present. Then he got over it and immediately began arguing with Owen over who would get which box. (The bike came in a big huffy box, which was delivered in an even bigger Amazon box.)
He had his favorite cereal for breakfast, helped me put the bike together, then got on, chickened out, got off, then worked up the nerve to get back and ride it again when Owen started trying to climb onto it and rode it throughout the the downstairs. (We moved our dining table into the library, or as James has started calling it, the "third room.")We went out and shoveled the driveway, then came in for more biking and Owen joined him on his scooter, and they basically rammed around all morning until Nama and Papa arrived for lunch. James showed off his bike to them and sat down for his favorite lunch--fried chicken with ketchup, peas, and chips and guac, followed by chocolate ice cream and chocolate cake. He did kindergarten (his idea, not ours) and wrote sentences in his writing book about what he'd done on his birthday so far. Then he brought the bike with him upstairs during his book nap, so that he could look at it while he "slept." Then he came back down after nap and rode the bike around some more. He asked for a peanut butter and jelly for dinner until I reminded him that he could request whatever he wanted. (i.e., a chicken pizza from Salvatore's) and he decided that was, in fact, a better idea. He and Owen both freaked out when I brought it back inside, and James exclaimed "I hope there's a house inside!" He always gets excited by the little white plastic tripod spacer that the pizzeria puts in the box to keep the pizza from moving around or getting squished. He calls it a house, and insists that he hold it. This has been a thing for as long as he's been eating take-out pizza. We opened up the box, and, per our request, the pizzeria had made a big number "5" with a couple dozen "houses." He ate his pizza and loved it, and Owen was so messy that we had to change his outfit completely. Just like we did at lunch. And at breakfast. We've got to housebreak this kid. When my student arrived, James greeted him and his Dad simply by walking into the living room in proud silence and holding up five fingers.

II.
A Greek poem on a snowy afternoon

Inscribed on a Coan lady's statue of Aphrodite

E Kypris ou pandemos. Hilaskeo ten theon eipon
ouranien, agnes anthema Chrysogones
oiko en Amphikleous, o kai tekna kai bion eiche
xynon. Aei de sphin loion eis eto en
ek sethen archomenos o potnia. Kedomenoi gar
athanaton autoi pleion echousi brotoi.

This isn't the popular take on sex. But when you're
trying to do right in matters of love, remember the spiritual.
This statue is from Chrysogne, the faithful wife
of Amphikles and mother of his children.
First they did right by each other in bed, as the goddess would
want, and ever increased their happiness through the years.
For those who take a concern in what the gods would want
are better off for it themselves too.