Dang It ...

Owen decided he was going to clean up. He likes to clean--not quite an OCD level, but if he exhibits this level of cleanliness at, say, age 11, I'll be one ecstatic papa as he'll be far more productive in his attempts.

This time OP decided he was going to Swivel Sweep up the remnants of his dinner. He reached down, touched the battery compartment and it started right up, so he started sweeping. As a test and because I'm a turkey, I turned the switch to "off" and it stopped. Owen tried touching the battery compartment again and pushed the still-dead Swivel Sweeper back and forth. No dice. "Dang it," he said under his breath. "Dang IT!" again a little louder.

***

Rae asked me about scientists and degrees at bedtime. We often talk about astronomy and math at bed (well, I attempt to talk about both, given my limited knowledge in both). We were going on about college degrees and how long it takes to get them when she got an earnest look on her face and asked, "Can you be color blind and be a scientist?"

***

I've been telling Rae a bed-time story in a series of cliff-hangers staring an (as yet) unnamed girl and her monkey Ricco who wears a diaper. They live in Algiers in the 20s. Perhaps I'll serialize here in the near future.