More kinderlach files

I mentioned to my friend Cecilia today that I have gone a long time without blogging cute kid stuff, then told her some of the stuff that had been going on lately. She said, "paste it in from the emails." So, in what might be the epitome of lazy blogging (okay, maybe not), I give you this:

From: Cecilia
To: Uberimma
Subject: Spider triumph
Date: Three years ago

I know you are all waiting with bated breath for the
latest in my spider saga...

The Spider (who is, in case you've forgotten, the largest
spider in the world, ever) made its way to the window
and I (virtuosically, bravely,and with great dignity)
pushed him outside with the end of my mop. Needless to say,
I will never open that window again.  Ever.

Thank you for your reassurances that the spider is
(most likely) not poisonous and for the offers
to come over and whack it/stomp on it for
me.

:)

Cecilia

From: uberimma
To: Cecilia
Subject: Spiders
Date: Tonight

I truly do not remember how it came up or all the details at this point, which is too bad. But at one point there was a moderately-sized, not scary-looking spider in our kitchen. I told Barak not to kill the spider, because spiders were good bugs that kill the bad bugs. Barak was skeptical. I insisted that spiders were not scary bugs.

"I'm not scared of spiders."

"You're not scared of spiders?"

"No."

Then we went through a whole list of people who were not scared of spiders. Then (I swear I am not making this up) he said, "Tanta Seeya is scared of spiders."

"Who? Tanta Sara?"

"No, Tanta Seeya. She makes me sweaters. I sink she is scared of spiders. I sink when she sees dem, she goes like dis." Arms flung wide, mouth open in scream of horror.

From: uberimma
To: Cecilia
Subject: Spiders #2
Date: Tonight, five minutes after the last email

Now I'm thinking about it more I think I know how he knew, although it would require him having a memory on the order of, well, mine. I think we had previously had a conversation at some point about spiders wherein I told him that spiders could not hurt him, and he asked if that was true of all spiders, and I said that there were spiders in Africa and Australia that could hurt you if they bit you, but that those places were very far away. And he at some point heard that you live in Australia, because you sent him those shirts. So he must have been putting two and two together with you living in Australia where there are scary spiders.

It's so bad I don't blog this stuff. They do such cute stuff every day that I just can't remember it all. Like today, Iyyar. He has started singing like you wouldn't believe. Barak used to sit in his high chair or stroller declaiming I don't know what--telling stories or something, in total gibberish. Iyyar sings, long dramatic improvised operas about... something. Today, the opera was about bologna. I gave him some bologna and he was so thrilled he began to sing.

"BOLEY! Boley boley, bo! bo! lee lee lee! aHHH, bo LEE LEE LEE bo lee..."

* * *

MHH would like me to add that it is not merely the fact that he sings, it is the... full-tilt unbridled passion with which Iyyar sings that is so funny. Eyes scrunched shut, head flung back, entire body in fluid theatrical motion. Iyyar does not just sing. He performs. The high chair (or stroller) is his stage, and the world his audience.

On Thursday afternoon all of us were in the produce store, since MHH got off work early for Lag ba'Omer. On our way to the checkout, I spotted a friend, and went over to say hi while the men of the family (Abba, Barak and Iyyar--I had Avtalyon in the Snugli) stayed by the checkout waiting. My friend didn't realize that they were waiting and started telling me how much her kid (who is in MHH's class) likes MHH (which of course I liked hearing) and we chatted a little longer than we really should have done given the circumstances.

Then I realized, somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness, that part of the background noise of the store was Iyyar--singing an opera. A whole, complete opera, in acts, with many parts, all of which he sang with true depth of emotion, great vigor, and impressive volume. I decided to wrap up my conversation and returned to the checkout and the other 3/5 of the family just as the finale came to its triumphant close, the curtain fell, and--I did not hear this myself but Abba tells me it is true so it must be--someone else in the store applauded and called, "Bravo!"