So, in writing this book about Doctor Who, I have exposed the kids to tons and tons of the show. They now know more about Doctor Who than any 5- and 7-year-olds should, probably. Indeed, this morning Wesley reflected that there are “at least four stories with Davros–two Fourth Doctor ones, a Fifth Doctor one, and a Tenth Doctor one that’s in two parts. And the crazy part is, Sarah Jane is in TWO of those stories! And there may be other ones but those are the ones I know about.” ha.
My favorite thing about this is how much they like the show’s conventions and tropes–the things that appear over and over again. They love the Daleks: the egg-beater guns, the Dalek voice, the fact that they always think they’re going to get the better of the Doctor. They love all of the slow-moving doors that get stuck halfway open because the early series is so low-budget. Mary loves Clara (no accounting for taste) and Wesley loves Jamie. (Wesley’s taken to referring to airplanes as “flying beasties,” just like Jamie does.)
Anyway, on the way home tonight, we were listening to the audio recording of “The Power of the Daleks,” one of the Patrick Troughton serials that has been lost. As the scientist Lesterson talked to another of the characters about the Daleks, he mused, “Can you imagine what kind of positronic brain this robot has, Janley? Think of the store of knowledge that it must carry!”
Mary shouted at the radio, “Lesterson! Get with the program! They’re not robots and they are NOT YOUR SERVANTS!” Then she sighed deeply and said, “All of these villains, it’s like they never even watch TV.”
Last night I made risotto for dinner.
Wesley asked, “What’s dinner?” and I said, “Risotto and fruit and sliced vegetables.”
He said, “I’m not eating that.”
I said, “Well, you’ll have to take a tasting bite if you want anything else, but that’s up to you.”
He stomped his feet furiously, stormed out to the porch, and jumped around angrily, repeating “I’m not eating that! I’m not eating that! I want dinner but I won’t eat that!”
This went on for about five minutes. Sometimes he came over to the door to stomp directly at me.
Then he wandered off.
About five minutes after that, he came up to the door again and said, “Mama?”
Wesley and Mary have been playing Star Wars in the yard. He pointed his finger and said, “I’ll get you, Darth Vader!”
Mary shouted, “I have TWO light sabers!” [Query for nonexistent editor: lightsaber? light saber?]
Wesley replied, “I have NINETY-NINE light sabers!” And then, after a moment’s thought, “And 100 hands, so that I can use them all and STILL point at you!”
So, this weekend, Mary has a dance competition today, and Wesley had a birthday party yesterday. Conor took Wesley to his party, while Mary and I ran errands (including stuff to get ready for the competition). It was a ridiculous list of things to do–dropping off some newsletters, going to the strawberry patch (not to pick, just to buy some berries), Target, Costco. Mary is excellent company on such an outing, because she doesn’t think anything is boring.
It was a beautiful day, and the strawberry farm had a truck selling ice cream, so we shared a milkshake, and as we were drinking it, Mary said (after a contented sigh), “You must be so happy to spend the weekend with me.”
Mostly because she’s so modest?
She is right, of course, although I wouldn’t have minded having Wesley and Conor along as well. She loves to go places with just Conor or just me, though. She added, “And you can have a whole Mary weekend!”
Wesley asked me today, “What’s an anniversary?” (It’s our anniversary today.)
I explained, “It’s the day of the year when a couple got married. Or whatever–there are anniversaries of other things, but if someone just says ‘anniversary’ they usually mean ‘wedding anniversary.’ So, Daddy and I got married on January 3, so this is our anniversary.”
Wide-eyed, he asked, “You guys are MARRIED?”
I clarified that we are, in fact, married.
He said, “So anyone who is a boy and a girl or a boy and a boy or a girl and a girl gets an anniversary now in Maryland!”
Spot on, pal.
Mary has been cracking me up recently with her philosophical remarks.
The other night, she called to talk to my parents. I could only hear her end of the conversation, but it sounded like this:
“I miss you too!”
“Yeah, because we don’t live close by.”
“I know, but that’s just the way life is.”
A few minutes ago, Wesley asked me if his piece of turkey looked like a ghost (?) and I agreed that it did.
He took it over to show it to her, and said, “Look! Doesn’t this look like a ghost?”
She said, “Not really–it just looks like turkey.”
He said, “Mama said I was right and it does look like a ghost!”
She said, “Well, you know, sometimes people have different opinions about things. Especially things that are not facts.”
Things that are not facts–I love it.
Mary and Wesley were just listing things that annoy them.
Things That Annoy Mary:
* When you’re going to have a dance thing and then it’s canceled because of bad weather, especially when it’s for charity.
* Containers that leak.
* Being interrupted when you are talking.
* The time Daddy took us to Kentucky Fried Chicken and I ordered macaroni and cheese and it was disgusting.
Things That Annoy Wesley:
* Power outages.
* Very loud sounds.
* a T. Rex.
* When you can’t find the book you want.
* When you go to bed and you’re not even tired, but then you wake up and you ARE tired.