The kids come clambering onto our bed, obviously distraught.
Kid A- "Mooom, YaYa's making everything wrecked!'
Me- "What's she wrecking, honey?"
Kid A- "Well, it's both of our birthdays today, and SHE'S trying to take the first bite out of ALL the cakes, and that's not fair, because I want the first bite.
I stare at him for a minute.
Me- "But don't you think it makes sense for each of you to have your own cake, and then each of you can have the first bite of your cake? Since you're both having your birthday?"
Kid A- "I want to do that, but everytime I try, she just CHOP CHOP CHOPS (quick slashing motion with his hands) it UP, and then she takes the first BITE, of ALL the cakes!"
Me- "Soooo, why don't you make sure that both of you have your own cake, and then YaYa can chop hers up? And both of you can have the first bite?"
YaYa- "I just want a taste of his. It's coconut blackberry."
Kid A- "NO NO NO, you shouldn't take MINE!"
YaYa- "C'mon, Kid A! Let's go get another coconut blackberry one..."
They run off, leaving me shaking my head over the fact that I have perfectly regular conversations sorting out arguments about invisible cakes made of AIR.
And then there was the moment, today, when YaYa, touching the back of her knee, said, inexplicably and jubiantly, "Oh! Your knee pits help you walk!" like she had solved what had long been a mystery to her.
Oh these kids. Treasure.
The other day my Superstar Husband came home with this:
When I opened it up, I found this:
A garland of jasmine, which smelled like pure heaven, because there is nothing on earth that smells like jasmine other than, well, jasmine. And don't you hate how they never really get it right, when they try to put it into soaps and stuff?
Details and cooking adventures (last night I mistakenly tried to make chicken soup from something that turned out to be a lot like chicken spam) and homesickness aside, it's perfect to be able to buy a garland of jasmine wrapped in a banana leaf from a man walking down the street.