An Exchange

Had at approximately 9:45pm:

Julie, upon finding Joe still awake: "Oh, Bub.  Why are you still awake?"
Joe: "I'm not."

Joe Medical Update

Fans, he woke up not long after we released yesterday's medical bulletin, and proceeded to while away the afternoon eating oyster crackers, drinking Gatorade, and going outside to play in the snow while Ted raked the latest snowfall off the roof.  He felt a little warm last night, but no warmer than he had in the morning when his temperature clocked in at 99.1 degrees.

He padded upstairs again this morning sometime after 3am but before 5am and busied himself at the desk for a bit with Clara who was not long behind him.  But, it wasn't long before Joe hauled himself into the big bed, and positioned himself between all the pillows--and Julie and Ted--but still under the covers, where he promptly fell back asleep.  He was a little hot potato, Fans.  This morning's temperature reading was 101 degrees.

Save the fever and slightly less energy than he would otherwise have, you wouldn't know he was sick. He's been bopping about in his pajamas; Birdie, too.  We've played Zingo!*  It was clear that the bambini had played before with the always-sportsman-like Ted (as opposed to the always-mindful-of-curbing-her-competitiveness Julie) because when a one of the bambini wouldn't get a tile of which he or she was in need because another player had grabbed it first, they'd say things like, "I'll get the next one!"  They would also point out a tile that another player might need, though usually by suggesting he or she pay attention.  Again, Ted's influence was plain.

The bambini are both napping now.  Joe conked out pretty quickly.  Clara was sitting up and singing Happy Birthday to Chloe, but ceased the serenade once Ted asked her to be quiet for her brother Joe.  Anything for Brother Joe.

*Zingo! is like bingo but instead of matching numbers, one matches pictures on tiles that shot out of a contraption two at a time to pictures on cards.

The desk area after the bambini have been at work.

Desk detail.  Post-it note cube, deconstructed.

Other early morning handiwork.

Zingo-ing!

Joe Medical Bulletin

This weekend, it is Our Hero that has been felled.  This morning, he padded upstairs a little after six and curled up next to Julie, before moving into the middle of the bed between Julie and Ted.  Julie thought how nice it was that he wasn't crawling all about and figured he must have still been tired having not fallen asleep until around nine o'clock the night before.  Eventually Clara showed up, too.  She clambered up, too, but it wasn't long before she'd hopped down with a "Come on, Joe!"

Joe had no more finished saying he was sleepy than he threw up all over Julie's left arm.  He was moderately excited about having a pajama day, even if that meant it wasn't a swimsuit and swimming day, and he was having a pajama day only because he'd thrown up.

A nurse did a strep test--especially horrid when you've been throwing up.  Oh, Fans.  You should have seen his little face!  The strep test was negative, but Joe threw up again in the waiting room, we saw the doctor who diagnosed "the stomach bug that's been going around."  Apparently six to 12 hours of vomiting followed by diarrhea.

Our Hero has been sleeping ever since he got home at about ten-thirty.  Poor Bub.

I can ski!

Today was the day!  Ted took Joe to the mighty Hyland ski hill.  It is true midwestern skiing, where the chairlifts only have a dozen or so chairs strung from bottom to top.  But it is perfect for learning, with "magic carpets" and tow ropes a plenty (and about 15 minutes from our house!).  We got our rental gear (fortunately just before a busload of school kids arrived) and headed to the second floor of the chalet (they seriously call it that) where we met our teachers for the Hot Cocoa Club.  The first 45 minutes or so were spent learning about skis and walking through an obstacle course of sorts in order to learn the feeling of skis on one's feet, rocking from side to side, and making a snowplow (or pizza as they called it).  We then got out for a few runs on the hill using a tether that attaches to the child's boots.  Joe was great!  He rarely fell, kept his skis the right distance apart, and was able to make some turns.  We had hot cocoa with the class and then Joe wanted to go back out again.  So we marched back to the magic carpet and did a handful more runs.  Joe was able to get himself on the magic carpet and was getting better at his turns before he declared he was cold and wanted to go inside. After returning our skis we sat outside and watched the snowboarders do their jumps, flips and flops - maybe that will be for next week!

Out for our second set!

Ready, Set, Ski!

Joe is going to the first in a series of three skiing lessons tomorrow with Ted.  This is how we found him after dinner.  Do you think he's just a little excited about it, Fans?  He informed us that he was wearing his gear to protect his eyes from the trains.  Uh huh.

Things You Can Do In Minnesota In the Winter

Heading out!

It's been a little warmer here--that is, it's not been in the teens or single digits--and it's been sunny.   Still, the 10,000 lakes and then some that we have here in the North Star State are good and frozen over.  So this morning, we took the bambini over to Lake Calhoun so they could walk on top of a (frozen) lake.  Joe was all set to go ice fishing, especially when he saw a pair of guys drilling holes into the ice to do just that, but settled for being toted about on a sled and playing on the playground, too.  We were also entertained by two people kite skiing.  Clara was calling their crescent-shaped kites moons: "Look, the moon fell down!"  (She had the crescent shape down well before some of your more garden variety shapes, remember Brigade?)  After we'd marched around the lake, we went to My Burger for lunch, where Ted asked Joe if you could walk on the lake in the summer.  Joe said no.  When asked why, he said it was too deep.  Close enough.  But, he added, you can walk in the lake, because there is sand, which is like the floor.  We had fun this morning, but we're kinda lookin' forward to seeing the floor again.

Out, on the lake!

What are you lookin' at?

Snow Bird, in profile

Watching the moon

Bambini and Mommy, in shades

Birdie Medical Bulletin

Birdie Brigade, our standard bearer, our mascot, Our Birdie, is under the weather.  Julie and Ted were both up in the night multiple times unbeknownst to the other until the morning, tending to a bellowing Birdie.  She said her tummy hurt.  A trip to the pediatrician this morning revealed that while her tummy may have been hurting, so too was her throat because that is what strep throat does, don't you know.  She looked rather forlorn this morning.  She would say, "Pick me up," which comes out sounding like--and may in fact be--"Pick-y up."  When she wasn't being held, she was sitting in the chair in the living room looking at books and staring off into space.  Poor Birdie.  She's on the mend now though, one dose of antibiotics in, with a nap chaser.

A Real Reader, Reads

Reading, teacher style

We have been meaning to report that one morning last week, something happened like it weren't no thing, like it was an every day thing.  But really, it was the first time it happened, so it was kind of a big deal: Joe read to Clara.  !!!!!  No one asked him to read to her so it was sort of even more of a trip to notice them sitting on the couch, Joe with on of his pre-reader books open, at first, teacher style (i.e. facing out, upside down for him), and Clara sitting attentively beside him.  Later he turned the book back so it faced him.  It's kinda hard to read the words upside down, especially probably when you've just learned how to read.  He was reading the books we have hat Aunt Kate turned us on to that come in packs of four and are about a worm, a monkey, or a pig and his dad.  (There packs that feature other animals we think, but those are the animals in the packs we have.)  This week, he read to her from his Cars readers.  Holy bonkers, Fans.  Holy bonkers!  He's like a real-real READER!--!!!!!

And back right side up

Snowy Sunday Sleeping Arrangements

This past Sunday afternoon, as the snow flew outside, Birdie napped and Ted, on the sofa, had dozed off, too.  Julie was reading on the other end of the sofa.  Joe was pattering about taping a plastic Target bag to the table, cutting scraps of paper up, putting some of said scraps in to said Target bag, hauling the sofa cushions against one would rest his or her back (stripped off in a fit of discomfort by a crowded Julie) about.  He asked Julie if he could do something she can no longer remember, but she does remember saying he could not right at that moment.  He hauled himself off under the dining room table, curled up on top of a sofa cushion, and was out like a light.

Que Sera Sera

Skipping back to Saturday, Brigade (catching up from the hiatus you know), even a star feels a little dull sometimes, and by the time the Birds had arrived back home from Little Gym, Birdie was not feelin' the shine.  Truth be told, she might as well have had bunny rabbits in her ears all morning--that's about how well she was listening.  The Birds went upstairs on some errand and then, THEN, Brigade, Julie had the temerity to go down the stairs first.  Birdie was upset and was rather insistent upon what might be called The Do Over.  Julie is not down with The Do Over.  She was down the stairs by the time Clara had begun to pitch a fit about the prospect of going second, and was not about to go upstairs and do.  It.  Over.  Sometimes you're first, sometimes you're second.  Such is life.  C'est la vie.  Que sera sera.  Thus began a tantrum* lasting at least 40 minutes, consisting mainly of Birdie wailing from the top of the steps that she didn't want to [go second] and she didn't want Mommy to go first.  Noted.  Que sera sera.

*Our viewers will also see a dazzling close up of one of the stairs that Julie went down first.

Of Valentines (and Tomatoes)

In Valentine's Day finery, striking the usual poses (CHEEEEESE!!!!!)

Joe and Clara have had valentines and packages arriving all week, including scepters that light up when they are hit against something hard from their Grandparents Trump.  (Theirs is a joyous reign.)  Last night, Julie asked Joe if he thought he would get some more valentines.  He said, "Well, I'll get one at the party."  Julie said, "Candy?"  That follow-up question prompted this mini-monologue from Joe:  "Yeah.  Candy.  Because candy means love.  Also flowers.  Flowers mean love.  But not tomatoes.  They're just a vegetable.  A food."

Our valentine to you, Dear Fans.

Valentines

Star

Sometimes Birdie comes home with a smiley face drawn on her hand.  Usually it's when a certain Ms. Brittany has been in Birdie's room at pick-up.  Ms. Brittany is what the KinderCare management call a "floater," or "float."  It's a confidence-inspiring term, clearly.  Don't you only wish, Brigade, that you and yours could be minded by a float?  So Ms. Brittany is free with the toddler tats, if you will, inking her way into their hearts (and out of their parents' hearts or, at any rate, these parents' hearts).

This past week, Biride came home with a rather small, and, frankly, delicate, star inked on her hand, and Julie will admit her breath and her heart were caught for a moment.  They caught because the star put her in mind of the Philip Levine poem, The Blue Star, in which a man seeks to have a doctor remove a tiny blue star.  Julie first encountered it in a book called Covering, The Hidden Assault on Our Civil Rights which is about the civil rights law that may perhaps unfold in the rest of her lifetime, or Joe's and Clara's lifetimes, and also the extent to which we all hold multitudes, some of which we feel we must cover, even if those aspects of ourselves are those which might most brightly shine.*  The poem's concluding lines read:

I could feel nothing, and then he said
proudly, "I have it!" and held up
the perfect little blue star, no
longer me and now bloodless.  "And do
you know what we have under it?"
"No," I said.  "Another perfect star."
I closed my eyes, but the lights
still swam before me in a sea
of golden fire.  "What does it mean?"
"Mean?" he said, dabbing the place
with something cool and liquid,
and the lights were blinking on
and off, or perhaps my eyes were
opening and closing.  "Mean?" he said,
"It could mean this is who you are."

So often Julie thinks that what is so appealing about Birdie is her what-you-see-is-what-you-get-ness.  The unabashed way she embraces her little life and the things in it, including herself.  She doesn't hide her light under a bushel.  She just shines.

At the end of her Super Beasts class this past weekend, Clara charged over to Teacher Stephanie to put away her three shakers (two for her, one for Julie), pitched them in the bucket, and then tore back to Julie who had both of her hands up for high fives.  Birdie gave Julie a solid ten, and just before she broke the connection, put her face right up in Julie's and said, "Let's go get stamps!" before tearing off to the gym's door.

And in that moment, Brigade, she was just. . .incandescent.  It was so improbable.  On the big red mat at The Little Gym, kids every which way, but that's how she seemed to Julie.  So Birdie, so herself, so bright, so shimmering.

Probably all parents think their children are stars and everyone else is thinking, "Yeah, what of it?"  That's o-kay.  One day Birdie, you and your brother will read these posts, and you'll know that Daddy and I thought the two of you were endlessly enchanting.

You Say You Want A Revolution

FANS!

How you doin'?

We've been on hiatus, it's true, but we're back!  We try to keep our finger on the pulse of Joe and Clara Nation, and so would like to start off by answering what might be the burning question of the moment: how goes the bifurcated commute?

Fans, in a word: revolutionary.  Revolutionary!  Julie glides--and she does mean glide--out the door at 7am, give or take ten minutes.  Hugs and given and received, kisses are blown.  She doesn't know what happens after she leaves, but she can report that she arrives at work at 7:30am and that all else appears to be going swimmingly as well, as Ted is getting to work, and the bambini are getting to school.  Julie leaves work between 4pm and 4:30pm which puts her to the daycare for pick-up between 5pm and 5:30pm.  No longer does she feel she is shortchanging anyone or constantly missing some impossible bar.  She glides into school, collects the bambini, and as often as not, there is high hilarity on the way home.  The other evening, Joe and Clara were doing their version of Abbott and Costello's "Who's On First?" routine, which consist of their alternately claiming Chloe: "My Chloe!", "No, my Chloe!", "No, MY Chloe!"  It's hilarious to both of them until it's not hilarious to Clara who's Chloe it really is.  When things devolved the other night, Julie sallied forth with "Knuffle!" and the bambini paused only a beat before taking the bait, which they know from Knuffle Bunny, Too, and hollered "Kuh-nuffle!"  The threesome hollered it at each other all the way through the neighborhood, into the garage, and up to the front door.

It was a regular Johnson & Johnson's commercial.

Fans, this changes everything.

Whatever

A few weeks ago, Joe tossed a "whatever" off, sounding for all the world like he was some snotty valley girl.  Julie sharply told him she didn't like that word as she simultaneously wondered which friend from school was saying that.

It was maybe only a few days later that she heard herself toss a "whatever" off, sounding for all the world like some snotty valley girl.

Fans, do you remember, from the heyday of the War of Drugs, the Partnership for a Drug Free America TV ads?  There was one that featured a teen boy lounging around on his bed when his mustachioed dad bursts in with a cigar box of drug paraphernalia and demands to know who taught his son to do this stuff.  The kid bursts out with (and Fans of a certain age can probably recite this right along with us): "It was you alright!  I learned it by watching you!"  Cut to shot of mustachioed dad looking stricken, and the statement "Parents who do drugs have children who use drugs."

Julie felt like that stricken dad, sans mustache.  She was the snotty valley girl!  Like, OMG.

So she's been making a conscious effort to stamp "whatever" out of her speech.  There is, of course, nothing like a pre-schooler to keep you honest.  The other night, Julie arrived home with the bambini and said to Joe something like, "Be sure you've got your hat and mittens and whatever!"  This would be an appropriate use of the word whatever--that is, it is not being used to dismiss someone like a snotty valley girl, but rather to refer collectively to the flotsam and jetsam of treasures that might be hauled home from daycare.  But Joe stopped dead in his tracks and said, "Mommy, you don't like that word.  That word is closed in this house."

Whatever.

The Birds Go Shopping

Fashionista Birdie

After tearing it up at The Little Gym, Julie and Clara had to pop into the Old Navy across the way.  As you know, Brigade, Birdie is starin' down the barrel at three.  The big day is a little less than three months away, but a lot of her shirts were showing off her belly or threatening to do so.  So the Birds were looking for some bigger long-sleeved shirts before the long-sleeved shirts are completely gone from the stores.  (Having said this, Julie would note that the sleeves on Old Navy's long-sleeved shirts for girls are always really snug.  Does Clara just have really big guns?  Or are parents the land over gnashing their teeth about Old Navy sleeve diameters?  She doesn't know.)

The Birds have, of course, gone shopping together before, and at Old Navy.  Often Joe is with them.  Old Navy can be a bit dicey because a) it doesn't have carts to contain one's wee ones and b) it has bins of balls and other delights which wee ones can pick up and throw, bounce, or roll all over the place.  There are also huge mirrors and some light patterns that are projected on the floor in the children's section at our usual Old Navy.  These things actually help in that they keep the bambini contained to one spot, unlike the balls which are chased hither and yon.  It used to be that you could assume a solo trip to Old Navy with one or both bambini in tow would be a bit of a trial in some way.  But maybe not anymore!

Brigade, Birdie made like a big girl.  She wanted to carry some of the shirts Julie picked out for her herself.  She wanted, moreover, to toss them over her shoulder, "like Mommy."  Old Navy, as many of you probably know, has many of its shirts folded on tables.  Julie often slings these over her shoulder like a dish towel.  She's not sure why, but that's what she does, so Birdie was going to roll that way, too.

She picked out a skirt--all by herself--a delightful pink, tiered, tulle, be-hearted number that you can see in this picture, and that you can look to hit first Valentine's Day 2013.  She's going to be pretty in pink!

Our Super Beast, Our Inspiration

When Joe goes to swimming, Clara goes to The Little Gym.  At The Little Gym, she (and Julie) are enrolled in the final parent-child class: Super Beasts.  One of Clara's fellow former Beasts made the transition with her--a girl named Pauline.  Clara and Pauline are two of four girls.  The rest of the Super Beasts are strapping young lads--and they are strapping.  But Our Birdie is no shrinking violet.

Case in point, this past Saturday, the first skill of the class was to sit on top of a bar that was perhaps three or four feet off the ground and, if comfortable, flip over it to return to sitting--with a spot.  Clara was all about it, until she got up on the bar and then she was like, "You get me off of this now."  But the first great thing was she tried!  She was all about it.

But the second great thing that happened was that after she got off, and after she and Julie had watched another Super Beastie sit up there, she marched herself back up to Teacher Stephanie to say she wanted to give it another go--!!!!!  Which she did.  And she sat, and she flipped.

All of this was after she had sat with Julie on the Air Trac* as it was inflated and then jumped and forward rolled (somersaulted--The Little Gym people use proper gymnastics terminology) her way down it like she was Mary Lou Retton in the making.  (The Air Trac looks like all kinds of fun to 30-plus-year-old eyes, but to even the Super Beasts set, it can look intimidating.)

Sometimes, it's tough to give things a go, to get back up again when they don't go the way you thought they would, and then give them another go.  Birdie already seems to know that this way is the only way, really, to roll.  She's kind of an inspiration.

*Imagine an slice of a track that you would run on, inflated, maybe two feet off the ground.

Radiator Springs

A few months ago, Ted was walking the aisles of Menards to see where he might "save big money" when he happened upon a giant roll of kraft paper for about $10.  Although it is intended for covering floors during painting jobs, he thought it might come in handy for some art fun some day.  Well, on a cold winter weekend day that dream came true.  During quiet time, Ted and Joe set out to recreate Radiator Springs (the town from the Cars movie for those of you unfamiliar) in 2D.  There was a race track, Flo's V8 Diner, The Cozy Cone Motel, and Luigi's Tire Shop.  Joe cut out lots of circles to make tires, Ted sketched out all the characters (from online pictures) on paper for Joe to cut out, and Joe taped the cars around the race track and his tires along Route 66.  It was a fun activity, so we of course wanted to keep it, but it was placed in the highest traffic part of the house.  So we spent a week stepping all over Radiator Springs before Joe agreed this past weekend to take it down.

But no sooner was it taken down then Ted decided he and Joe needed some decorations for their family Super Bowl party.  So they set out to make a football field which you see here.  On the right are a bunch of stick figure people in the stands, and in the upper left is our "squares" bet (Joe won Q1 and Q2, Julie Q3, and Ted the Final Score).  You will notice everyone is intently watching the tv, but they are watching the "Puppy Bowl"  As soon as the football game came on the kids opted to go into their room and watch some of the Cars movie on the iPad.  It was still a fun party though!

Mama and Papa Got a Brand New Bag

Today may have been the start of something new, Fans.  For a long time, we were a one-car family and perhaps because of that, we all left the house together, dropped off the bambino (and then the bambini) together, before continuing on to downtown Minneapolis where Ted got out and Julie continued on across the river to St. Paul.  Evening found us doing the whole thing in reverse.

We were always tweaking the morning routine in an effort to try and push up the departure time so that Julie could arrive at work such that she could leave at 4pm in the attendant effort to collect the bambini at 5pm instead of 6pm, all to little avail.  Julie found herself leaving work most days feeling like she was shortchanging everything and everyone--her work, the bambini, Ted, and herself.  For Julie, it was just a short hop-skip-and-a-jump to feeling like she'd failed on all fronts which is exactly where she found herself Friday evening when she left work shortly before 5pm, as a decently heavy snow had just begun to fall which only increased the probability that she would not collect Ted and the bambini in time to make it out to dinner before everyone else in the Twin Cities arrived for dinner out on a snowy Friday night.

It is, of course, ridiculous to feel like a failure on all fronts in such circumstances, but in her defense, we would note that we live in a world in which Sheryl Sanberg is celebrated for leaving work every day at 5:30pm--a time that is just slightly beyond the end of the quote-unquote normal 8-to-5 workday--and for her "lean in" rallying cry.  A cry which contains some truth but not so much that it should be used (as it so often is in this author's opinion) to excuse the collective failure of American workplaces to figure out how to encourage, support, and promote employees who are members of two-parent families be they mothers, or fathers.  Humph.

So there we were: Julie, feeling like a failure, gnashing her teeth at Sheryl and Oprah, a two-woman veritable Greek chorus, telling her that if only she could lean in and self-actualize enough then she could leave "on time" and manage to exercise for at least 30 minutes before joining her family for a nutritious meal after which she will prep her breakfast of steel-cut oatmeal and yogurt to be enjoyed the next morning after tossing in a load of laundry and brushing the dog's teeth while birdies lay out the children's clothing; Ted, wondering why Julie didn't just call to say she was running late because he wants to solve the problem!; Julie, wondering why Ted didn't understand that although she would also like to solve the problem, she would also like to be told that even though there was a problem to solve, she was still a triumph for trying to self-actualize and avoid said problem!; Ted, wondering how he seemed to have landed in an O or Real Simple magazine article.

It was time for a new tack.  (Obviously.)

So, after years of commuting together, we are going to try commuting separately.  Julie will leave the house by 7am after getting the bambini dressed (and herself!) in order to get herself to work by 7:30am.  Ted will drive himself to work, and drop the bambini off on his way.  Julie will then leave for home at 4pm, collecting the bambini on her way.

We gave it a go today.  When Julie arrived to collect Joe, he dashed to his take-home folder and handed her this card which he had made for her this afternoon.

Fans, that orange object (in case it isn't obvious) is a vacuum cleaner (the horizontal lines on either side are "the rugs").  So while Julie may feel like a failure on many a day, clearly she is nailing one thing: keeping the floors clean.  And this week, she managed that by asking Ted if she could trade him doing the house cleaning for doing the week's shopping.  Uh huh! That's right.  Figuring a way to brush Berenice's teeth on a regular basis should be a snap!  We are so self-actualized here at Raleigh House.

But here is the glory, Fans: Joe handed Julie a card he'd made that very afternoon when she arrived to pick him and Birdie up, just before 5pm, before they headed for home before the sun had gone down, where they found Ted already making dinner, and everyone tumbled out of their shoes and coats without anyone snipping or yelling, because there was even time to play for a bit before dinner, which they did.

The Ox-Cart Man

Clara has another man in her life.  (Readers!  We know!  She's terribly darling though after all.  She's got to play the field.)  When Birdie is done with Harold (he goes to bed really early after all--kind of a wet blanket), she moves on to The Ox-Cart Man.  The Ox-Cart Man: older, rugged, solid--a provider.  Walking all the way to Portsmouth Market with all manner of things to sell so that he can bring home all kinds of delightful wares for the family to use throughout the winter and spring before he walks off to Portsmouth Market again the following fall.  Sigh.  It's true.  The Ox-Cart Man already has a family.  Clara, pointing to the Ox-Cart Man's wife: "What's this guy?"  And to his son--and daughter: "What's this guy?"  As if the use of the interrogative pronoun that doesn't refer to a person will make them less real!

The Ox-Cart Man has an ox (imagine!), which, actually, he sells, in Portsmouth Market.  He's not really  as heartless as that makes him sound though.  When he sells his ox, he kisses him good-bye on his nose.  When Julie reads this bit, she kisses Clara's nose--and Joe's, if he happens to be about.

Clara has, of late, been figuring out what's what with kissing.  When Julie tucks Clara in, she will kiss each of Birdie's cheeks, and sometimes Birdie's forehead or nose.  One night, Clara surprised Julie by grabbing her face and starting to pull her in for kiss on the mouth.  Birdie kissing Julie on the mouth wouldn't have been quite the end of the world, but given that Clara has two fictional men on the string, Julie felt it prudent to let Clara know that only Mommies and Daddies and kiss on the mouth.

Harold

After Reading

Clara has a man in her life: Harold.  He has a purple crayon.  (Purple is one of her favorite colors.  That Harold.  He's no chump--picking some gender-neutral color like red with which to draw moons and moose.)  Joe was never one for Harold and the Purple Crayon, but Clara returns to him again and again.  It's really only because of Clara that Joe has even met Harold.  (Now that Joe has, he is keeping his eye on this Harold character.)

So we read Harold a fair amount these days, and each reading is bookended by some rather charming patter from Birdie.  At the beginning, before Harold has caught sight of Birdie and begins drawing to impress, he's just scribbling away.  Clara: "Scribbles!  This is scribbles!"  Guess which word she's recently learned, Brigade?

Toward the middle, Joe will almost always point out that the balloon Harold draws after falling off the mountain he's drawn, and the attendant basket, is a hot air balloon, not a balloon-basket.  Harold does not actually call his balloon a balloon-basket, though it is also true that he does not call it a hot air balloon.  No favors for Harold from Joe, though.

At the end of Harold's journey, as you may know Dearest Readers, he has found his way back to his bedroom.  Once there, he makes his bed, gets in it, draws up the covers*, and drops his purple crayon on the floor before dropping off to sleep.  Clara: "We don't sleep with crayons!  Only animals!"  (Frankly, this is not such a bad rule for Our Birdie--and Our Hero--to have in mind for a number of years to come.)  Fans, you cannot see Harold's animals, but we've discussed it, and we believe that he has them.  They just aren't pictured.

They might be yellow.  He might need a different crayon.

*This is easily--easily--the book's cleverest line.  Julie always wonders if Crockett wrote the book because he thought up this line first.