Scene: Children are playing outside, rolling large balls of snow. I step out to put a bag of trash in the barrel.
Alexander: Mommy, we need my sword! Can you get it for us?
Me: Which one, the wooden one or the plastic one? (Clearly, I am an enabler.)
A: The wooden one. You know what we're doing?
Me: Building a snow knight?
A: No, we're going to build a snow man, then throw the sword at him and stick him with it. He's like our target!
I don't think they even bothered to make a head. Maybe that's a good thing. Anyway, no sentimental photos of smiling children next to a carrot-nosed Frosty this year. The snow man's body lies hacked to death in our yard. Ah, childhood!
Portrait of the Artist as a Middle-Aged Woman
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I received my membership card from the Philadelphia Museum of Art today.
The front of it has an excerpt from a painting by Wassily Kandinsky, Circles
in ...
2 years ago