4/100

Lux pointed out to met that I skipped from 3/100 to 5/100. I was sure that I must have written a blog and then failed to publish it, but when I opened this up there was nothing inside. Oh, well.

Owen is a fan of THE END. It comes at the end of all of his stories, you see, and if he knows we're on the final page he likes to say it along with me. The "e" in the word THE is long, which makes it sound more final. And the word "end" receives a grave accent, so there's no doubt that when I say the words "Now I feed Otto so much and no more. Never more than a spot or something may happen, and now I know what!" he can tag it with a resounding "THE END."

Sometimes, when we're reading Pierre (his recent favorite bedtime story in the form of a prologue and five chapters) he adds the final word to the line "...and stayed on as a weekend guest. The moral of Pierre is..." "CARE! THE END!"

The trouble is that Owen now things these words are invested with magical powers that can put an end to any literary task. For example, if we're reading his Thomas Look and Find book "It's a beautiful autumn day, and Percy has a special delivery" and sees that James has come out of the kitchen holding two particularly interesting Lego creations, he will suddenly slam the book shut and declare "THE END Choo-Choo-Train. JAMES! Wa' play?"

Or, if as is my morning tradition, I'm sitting at the kitchen table sipping my coffee and softly murmuring aloud my chapter of Livy I'll suddenly feel a burrowing into my lap and all of a sudden:
"Ubi cum obvius nemo ne inermis quidem fieret perque omnia non praesidiis modo deserta--"
"Modo deserta THE END Daddy's book. I wan' snack?!"

Recently he's figured out that THE END doesn't even need to be limited to literary activities. It can also be applied to practicing trumpet, wearing pants, sharing Legos, and eating vegetables. Right now he's telling me "THE END Computer," so it looks like we're back to reading A Fish Out of Water.

But there's only 40 more minutes until THE END Owen conscious.