The Typewriter

 Meeting a new baby was fine and cool and good, but the REALLY exciting part of visiting Uncle Lucas and Aunt Melissa's house (for Owen) was discovering that Uncle Lucas owned several typewriters.

He was fascinated.

"Dad, I HAVE to have a typewriter. Will you please get me one?"

Remembering his relentless and incessant campaign for a harmonica I decided that I would set a specific and difficult-to-obtain bribe from the outset. 

"I think that only children who have read the entire Lemony Snicket 'Series of Unfortunate Events' are able to own typewriters."

"I'm on it. James, can you get me the first book the minute that we walk in the door?"

This was Sunday afternoon. Owen had decided several years ago that Count Olaf was too scary for him to read the Lemony Snicket books, and nothing that I said in their favor could change his mind. Now all of his objections were gone. He read them on the couch. He read them at the dinner table. He read them at bedtime, and he woke up early so that he could read them in the morning. He read them instead of his school books. He read them on on the beaches, and on the landing grounds, and in the fields. With growing confidence and strength he read them. 

On Wednesday morning he came down to breakfast and informed me that I owed him a typewriter. So I bought him one. You all are about to get receive a lot of letters.

He's been quiet all day except for an incessant click-clacking. He handed me this letter within five minutes of owning it. 

     dear dad

Thank you for this typewriter it is simply glamorus. Thank you for porposing this deal and thank yguo goodness porposing thjy   fit you make my life better in EVERY POSIBLE WAY!

LUV U

                                            LOVE

                                    Owen Nicholas Smith 

This personality shines through his prose. I'm reminded of when we first got the ipad and showed the kids how to message our phones.

(Messaging James)

J: James, how did your piano lesson go this morning?

iPad: Let's discuss this at a later time.

(Messaging Owen)

J: Owen, did you have a good piano lesson with Grandma?

iPad: <gif of dancing shirtless fat man>

it was SOOOOOO good i got 3 my songs checked of and a star

<sticker of a star-eyed unicorn vomiting a rainbow>

Given that the typewriter can't insert gifs or emojis I think that it will be a helpfully tempering influence on Owen as a correspondent...

Catch

 There are some February 10ths in which we spend the whole day going in and out of the garage, taking turns to shovel out the driveway because it is blizzarding and we need to keep the driveway clear. The snowplows keep on filling up our driveway apron, and you want to move all of the heavy stuff out before it freezes in place.

This year's February 10th almost hit 60 degrees. There were some patches of warmish rain, but for most of the day you could find some genuine yellow sunlight if you stood outside long enough.

I played catch in the backyard with the boys for an hour, and I hope that my Dad enjoyed playing catch with his sons on an unseasonably warm winter day as much as I did with mine. (I have very specific memories of playing catch in fall weather with my Dad, avoiding the work of and the physical obstacle of the unstacked pile of firewood by the cellar doors.)

James, who can easily throw the ball the entire length of the backyard now, is a great sport. Owen zigged and zagged and enjoyed "covering" people as much as any of the throwing and catching he did. Felix caught some balls but mostly used the game as an excuse to roll around on the muddy ground. He started the day in a blue raincoat with blue pants and a red hoodie. He ended the day in a brown raincoat with brown pants and a brown hoodie.

They also tracked in mud whenever they came in and outside. There is a permanent line of discoloration on our walls and door molding at about the three foot line...where they put their hands when they turn into the kitchen, run up and down the stairs, or brace against the wall to take off their shoes. (Just kidding, they never take off their shoes. They just clomp bits of mud all across the hardwood.)

I didn't care. It was just nice to throw a football around in the sunshine with three happy boys. 

It ended in tears, as it always does. Owen pushed Felix harder than he intended, and Felix now has an enormous goose egg on his forehead that hasn't quite stopped bleeding. I gave him a baggy of ice to hold against his head and told him it would keep the bruising down. He put his muddy feet up on the kitchen table and sat with the bag open on his lap, picking out and eating the ice cubes with muddy fingers.

They've had a great day.

So disappointing...

 February is going to be bonkers, and we started it off on the wrong foot. In a month where we are going to rely on our babysitters (whom we love) to get us through a difficult press or extra teaching, extra services, and extra orchestra work we had two different sitters end up in the hospital on back to back days.

They are fine. Also, not their fault. But we were in trouble. 

"We will make the best of a bad situation," I said. 

"We will turn this inconvenience into an adventure. Let me bring the boys to Syracuse and we'll spend the night in a hotel. We'll go swimming and order a pizza and watch ESPN. Then they can come to my concerts in the morning and we will have a grand fun time without making them do this drive twice in two days."

Then the upstairs bathroom sink stopped draining. Two hours, one trip to Lowe's, and several yelled exchanges out from the open bathroom window to the person manning the sillcock spigot out in the snow later (February is COLD) we had a draining sink again and I tried to get the boys to finish packing.

"Don't forget your swimsuits! I made sure that I booked a hotel with a pool. Also, toothbrushes. And bring something to read for during the concert."

Felix announced that he had a loose tooth. 

"Try not to lose it while I'm in rehearsal."

"How long is this rehearsal going to take?"

"I can't really control that. It all depends on how to conductor chooses to run the rehearsal."

"Is this conductor one of those terrible people you tell Mom about? Are they evil and bad?"

We got out of rehearsal relatively painlessly and picked up a pizza and wings. And also some carrots, so it would be healthy.

We checked into the hotel.

"Room 108. Follow the steps down past that sign to your right and you'll be four doors down."

We followed the steps right past the sign that said 'Outdoor Pool.'

"Boys, I have some bad news..."

Felix cried because eating wings hurt his loose tooth. Owen was upset because we couldn't swim. James was upset that Felix and Owen wanted to watch the only football-related programming we could find, which was a rebroadcast of the Eagles losing to the Chiefs in the Super Bowl.

"Owen and Felix, why don't you guys get into your swimsuits and you can splash around in the bathtub?"

Only a shower. No bath available. 

I found one of the children attempting to floss bits of chicken wing out of their teeth with one of the instant coffee packets.

It was so disappointing...

...until the continental breakfast.

This is where I, as their father, earned all the credit back.

Waffles, cereal, bagels, yogurt, nut bars, syrup, breakfast sandwiches!

Owen didn't even need to eat lunch that day. (He just had a fluffernutter sandwich, for something healthy)