My laptop started speaking to us! It came alive! It said hello and knew our names and answered our questions. Somehow, whenever the kids would run upstairs to get their dad so they could show him that the computer was now sentient, it got really shy. When he left the room to go back to work, the shyness would disappear.
YaYa's face was incredible. THE COMPUTER WAS TALKING TO US. It was amazing!
Eventually the computer let us know that it is controlled by someone, someone who lives with us, someone who is very tall, and has dreadlocks and is working in programming right now. IT WAS DADDY!
Whoa. That was an event. Daddy was making the computer talk. Daddy's smart like that.
* Tonight we had purple food. Purples, not greens. Purple cabbage, purple kale, and purple basil. Just for fun. You know.
* It was a day that dragged me around like one of those kids that gets knocked off of the merry go round and bumps along on the ground for a minute before being flung by the playground's most dangerous toy.
It was a good day. A busy day. And it culminated in Solo throwing a fit in the grocery store, whilst sitting in the cart, flailing his fists around and hitting me in the face, thus knocking my glasses to the ground, where they broke in half. (!)
Oh, my my my. I am not ready for this kid in his twos. He is a different kind, this one.
I squinted around the store holding my broken glasses in my hand, getting ridiculously close to the merchandise in order to see it. Feeling my way around the shelves. The children lost their minds and danced naked in the aisles. I fought back, pelting them with blueberries and roasted almonds. One worker calmly dumped a pint of yogurt on my head, and I came to my senses.
(None of that happened, though, except the part where I couldn't really see.)
In the car I tried to tape my glasses back together, just so we could get home. I only had electrical tape. It didn't work very well, but thankfully halfway there we came across Chinua walking home from work, and he drove the rest of the way.
It was one of those magical moments, the ones where you are not sure that you are really awake, or really inhabiting your own body. Did that just happen? you ask.
Remember the dancing! Remember the dancing. I tell myself. My Solo dances. We were at a wedding last weekend and he danced all evening long. He was the last dancer on the floor, one beam of sunlight falling on him, wrists bending and swaying, small torso pumping. He was amazing. Everyone else thought so too, I wasn't the only one.
He runs to me in the morning and gives me a hug like a mountain would give, if mountains were prone to hugging. He reserves his sweet smile for moments when it will delight people, or smooth things over in a pinch. Oh, but he can be terrible, a tiny monster, if your will crosses his. He reminds me of YaYa, but in boy form.
And she's turned out just fine.