Well, Max has discovered that the camera is another gadget with buttons, and so we are getting a lot of shots like this one. Here, I’ve tried to capture a delightful scene of him and his friend Ella, but he lunged at me, yowling, “You want to push the button yourself!”
Max does not yet have a grasp of the first and second person pronoun and refers to himself as you, which makes sense, since he gets called you all day. We’ve tried to explain it to him, but his attention wanders. Typically, to something with a button on it. Ella was visiting because Carrie had volunteered to help us get ready for the end-of-school party we threw last weekend by hanging around with the kids. Before they began climbing all over the chair, they watered the garden with tiny watering cans. Max also watered Ella.
The party went just fine and meat was eaten and a good time had by all except the vegans. We also overestimated by a factor of two the amount of beverage we would need. This means that there is a lot of beer in the house, which goes great with the end of work. All in all I would say that I was a decent principal (the exit surveys of one departing teacher, who included the phrase “Totally on the side of kids” as an insult, notwithstanding) but that the school year of 2006-2007 is best toasted goodbye with an extra case of beer, if you happen to have one lying around.
We also had a lot of very delicious chicken left over, and Max enjoyed this wholeheartedly. Given a drumstick mostly to keep him busy while we hung out with M. Braverman, in town on business and with gifts from Kenya, Max ate himself into a stupor. The gifts were fab. I scored a shirt with an elephant on it, LZB got a purse, and Max got a Masai rattle that makes him count to twenty over and over while keeping time (“eleven, twelllllllllve, thirteen, eighteen, thirteen, eighteen, sixteen, twenty!”). No one doesn’t like a present.