And back to the kids

Miranda got to watch the important half hour of the Inauguration yesterday at school. I was pleased. She was happy. At bedtime, after fretting about spa night at the upcoming Brownies half sleepover, Miranda’s thoughts turned to President Obama’s daughters. Did they live in the White House? Could they have whatever kind of bed they wanted? Like one with a top on it? A canopy, I asked? Yes. But what about a waterbed? Could they have waterbeds? I said no, the risk of a leak was too much of a risk for a historic house like the White House. She was nonplussed, but I think less inclined to want to live in the White House.

When I recounted the story to Rob, he said he thought the Obama girls could have waterbeds. The world of bedding was open to them.

I am unconvinced. And if denying the Obama daughters a hypothetical waterbed means I will have to less frequently deny Miranda a real waterbed, I am comfortable with that.

Miranda has decided she wants to work for the president when she grows up. Her first instinct was as an interpreter. But the lack of (another) language skills did make her think again. I am a tad bit sad that she doesn’t seem to want to be the president. But my thoughts did drift to internships and how working for the president was a broad and fabulous goal.

As long as the president is a Democrat.

And in other moments that amused me:

Henry is obsessed with being a teenager. Every time we get in the car, he asks if he can drive when he is a teenager. When he gets stuck in a Mario game, he claims he’ll conquer the game when he is a teenager.

Today:

Henry: Can teenagers cook?

Me: yes

Henry: Is Papa a teenager?

Me: <giggle> No. No. Papa is not a teenager.

I think I forgot to mention he could cook.

Henry said what?, The Amazing Miranda