I've realized our children do not have great expectations. A number of small incidents have accumulated over the course of the week that have led me to this conclusion. Today, for example, we took a ride and admired the agricultural land outside of State College. We saw calves and they were cute, despite the smell. Then "it" happened.
Kylie saw the ugliest, more dilapidated trailer that man put on earth, about fifty years ago, and gasped. "Oh Mommy! Look! It's a trailer!" She loves trailers. I don't mean the spacious, nice ones they make now. I mean the ones you find in the woods. The uglier, the better. She does not get this from me, nor does she get it from Seth.
We were almost home when I said, "I hope you get a job, Seth". Then Kylie interjected, "You should be a cable guy!"
I honestly have nothing against cable guys...unless they happen to have PhD's. So now I'm sitting back imagining Kylie's life in fifteen years. I see an ugly but homely trailer. I see her husband sitting on the couch in his cable-guy uniform with his arm around her, watching all the free cable his job entitles him to.
Nathan had a Wallace & Gromit (which he calls"Gomace and Hammus") moment this morning after using the potty. We told him to put his pants on and, seeing a pair of pants on our bed, assumed they were his. The look on his face was so cute when he realized he had the wrong trousers. We decided to see how Daddy's would fit. Here is the result.
