Swim class

Imagine if instead of taking the bus or train or taxis, everyone just swam everywhere. That's what it's supposedly like in Venice. Swim class is fun, fun, fun. Soon, I'll be able to swim to New Jersey, across the Hudson River, to Grand-ma and Grand-pas house, and they have a pool.

The pool at Columbia's Teacher's College is a medieval Turkish bath chock full of Chlorine with temperatures baking up to 165 degrees leaving one crushed by the air before his nose. The parents are forced to stand in the steamy balcony to look down on their kids fighting for their lives. I imagined myself jumping off the balcony into the saturated pool to save my Emma or dropping my camera, I used for these photos, on the lifeguard's head.

There's nothing better than ice-cream on a stick after swim class.

Towel Jacket

Imagine getting out of a bath and having a towel that both dries you and turns into an outfit. Yes, this is all mine! Check out my towel jacket with the pink tie. Grand-ma Renee in San Diego sent it to me.

Yes, Emma has gone mental for her towel jacket. When I couldn't find it tonight she started moaning "I want my towel jacket." I said, "I really want to give it to you, I don't know where it is." That explanation didn't go over too well. I searched all the normal places and then tried to negotiate, "Well, I can't find it but I'll give you the super giant beach towel and I'll find it tomorrow." That kind of bargain might strike a deal in the senate but not in here. Anyway, I finally found it, and Emma was able to relax and unwind.



Here's sister Maddy in her towel jacket!

Ride 'em high

"Ride 'em high. Ride 'em low." That's what Jack Catchup, the spittin' swearin' rustler from Texas told me. "Eeeh-ha!" I jumped up on crazy Molly. Yep, she tried to break me, but she and me came to an understanding,: you respect me, I respect you, we'll live to see a brighter tomorrow.

Emma took the "no fear" approach to the Pony ride. She jumped up, grabbed the pommel and rode through the fair grounds like the Electric Horseman.

Wizard

How is this possible? How is this small person creating these bubbles as large as balloons you see bloating high in the sky carrying three scared people in its basket. The answer is I am so powerful that I am a wizard.

I was just reading the sports section and looked up to see my daughter, Emma, engulfed by these giant bubbles. I thought, what is this, global warming, something about the little bubbles and the atmosphere but then Emma explained to me she was "a wizard."

The Fair

Corn Dogs, Funnel Cakes, Fried Oreos, Orange County house wives dipped in cake batter, they have it all the San Diego county fair. Mommy tried to get me to go on the roller coaster but I told her, "Too scary, too scary." She likes living in the edge but someone has to be concerned for my safety.

Sponge Bob Squarepants was the real and metaphorical guide of the fair. Emma demanded Sponge Bob Squarepants from the second we entered the grounds. I bought her an 8 dollar balloon which she takes around with her, opening doors, sitting in chairs, watching Sponge Bob Squarepants when Sponge Bob wants to watch his own show.

California Dreamin'

Here I am with Mommy. She saved me from the white water and evil rip tides of La Jolla beach. I played with cousins. Sara dropped me in the sand. Believe me when I say sand doesn't taste great. It's sharp and bitter. I prefer plain bread, plain bagels or bananas.

Getting the family through the metal detectors to San Diego is never easy. We flew with Grand Pa Ira and Grand Ma Annie which was fun. Jet Blue has tiny TVs in the back of the chairs and everyone watched Wimbledon and Sponge Bob Squarepants. Madeleine's baby naming went off smashingly. The Taubmans and the Dermanskys mingled in celebration of all the girls.

Now I'm really Three

Now that I'm really three I feel sudden new insights. Controlling your mind and your pee brings each person unbelievable courage.
My parents bought me a stove for my birthday. I have a new chant, "Microwave, Oven, Dishwasher, "Frigerator, YES! Microwave, Oven, Dishwasher, 'Frigerator, YES!!!"





Emma spontaneously broke into a cheer listing the four major components of her Fisher Price stove. "Microwave, Oven, Dishwasher, 'Frigerator, YES!!!" It is how I'm going to try to behave at JFK at the Jet Blue terminal tomorrow. "Baggage, Metal Detector, Water, Magazines, YES!!!" Well, we'll see.