Maybe It's Rabies

My brother- and sister-in-law moved to Queens, NY earlier this year. They live in a very cute 3-story row house, right in the middle. The couple that lives above them has a small child and yet gets extremely angry at any kind of noise that my niece or nephews make, banging down the door or else screaming obscenities as Matt and Cassy leave for church with their children. I personally think that their neighbors are crazy.

The other day, while my mother- and father-in-law were staying with Matt and Cassy, the couple upstairs was up past 3am, screaming sometimes and laughing sometimes, and running around the apartment sometimes. I'm guessing they were drunk the whole time. When my mother-in-law was relating the story to us later and mentioned that it sound like the couple was chasing each other around, Porter(7) piped up, "Maybe they have rabies!"

Well, that would explain their erratic behaviour and occasional foaming at the mouth.

But the can is still full

Rachel and Sarah Ann are in the kitchen, gleefully helping their mom make the two pumpkin pies for tomorrow night. A few minutes ago, the time came to add the evaporated milk...Rachel picked up the can and said, "Evaporated milk??? Shouldn't the can be empty?"

Grammar Lesson?

We overheard the following conversation at the dinner table this evening:

Sarah Ann (5): After dinner, me and Penelope are going to [do some mischievous activity].
Rachel (10): "Penelope and I" are going to.
Sarah Ann: Yeah, and me, too!

How to Build a Fire

In the White Mountains of New Hampshire, my husband's family and I have spent hours hiking to waterfalls and exploring the woods. Back at the house, we eat grilled chicken and discuss making s'mores before the kids go to bed. I LOVE making fires. I quickly volunteer, and my 10-year-old niece Rachel begs to help. Rachel gathers the wood, and I find the lighter. Always looking for a teaching opportunity, I ask if she knows what we need to build a fire, and she correctly answers: air, fuel, and something to ignite it. We pile up little sticks with pine needles in the middle, and surround them with larger pieces of firewood. The pine needles don't burn quite as well as I had hoped - they just create lots of smoke - and after I have sent Rachel inside to find some paper, hoping it would make a better fire starter, I am slightly discouraged.

"I sure hope that we'll have this fire going before everyone comes outside to roast their marshmallows," I sigh, as Rachel returns with 3 large sheets of paper. She carefully places some crumpled pieces of paper in the pile of sticks and replies confidently: "Don't worry, we will." Rachel then furrows her brow and begins to wax philosophical. "Fires are like humans you know," she starts. "They start off slow, and then they begin to roar." As she adds more small sticks to the now growing flame (the paper worked wonders!), she adds thoughtfully, "And if you don't feed them, they'll die."