The 3,5-year-old Klara, on the other hand, has no problem distinguishing between fact and fiction.
“See,” I said didactically after reading a book about a little turtle called Franklin, “when Franklin hurt his friend Bear he apologized. So what should we do when we hurt somebody?”
“Mommy,” Klara said in a condescending tone, “Franklin is not for real. He’s a character.”
I already had to warn her not to inform every kid at school that Santa is a character because that would be unkind. I have no idea how she figured it out. I was seriously set on preserving her belief in Santa until she was 10. But she’s just a different kind of kid.
My sister has been to 23 countries. I’ve only been to 14. But that’s because I have a rigid brain. If I like a place, I’ll keep going there like a maniac.
And no, I don’t count Catalonia and the Basque Country. And I don’t count countries I passed through. I count real stays. The kind where I made memories.
My favorite of the ones I visited is Germany. I’ve been twice but to different parts.
A woman on the local FB page complains that her 3-year-old goes to her room and plays on her own for long periods of time.
I was that child, and everybody always wanted to mess with it, entertain me, and find friends for me. I’m still that way but at least now I’m left alone to enjoy the wonders of my imagination.
I only now found out about Bernie’s recent heart trouble and surgery and I’m worried. Not only because I want him to be OK as I would any person but because I don’t want to be left without any marginally passable candidate to support.
I hope he recovers very soon because Warren is already overtaking him in the polls and that’s a shame. It’s sad people in both parties prefer dumb candidates to intelligent ones.