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Dabble day

This is about the time of year, in our neck of the woods, when parents of small children start really, truly needing to get out of the house on weekends. So the local schools, Head Start and other early-childhood types  sponsor events with tables full of shaving cream, trays full of oobleck, healthy snacks, mats and play equipment, more tables covered with craft supplies, and a free book for every kid. (For some kids it probably is the only way they get books; these events attract everybody.)

The punch line for all this will either delight you or tell you just how far gone I am. We were sitting at the playdough table, and I was talking with the father of the housebound two-year-old twins opposite, who had apparently never seen the stuff before, much less known it was nontoxic and there's a simple recipe. After a while I turned back to C, and asked him how he was doing; he had a garlic press full of playdough and was squeezing it to make strands of neon-colored angel hair. He got that knitted-brow look he gets when an adult interrupts something important, and leaned over to say confidentially to me, "I'm fentoozling."



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Feb. 3rd, 2008 02:31 am (UTC)

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