I'm pooped. And mildly scratched and dented. But I had a great day today, even though yesterday ended in bloodshed.
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So today, while Jen toiled away in handbags, Katie and I had a long-overdue day together.
First stop was the UH Music Building, where mom was cheering on both Kalani and Kaimuki kids as they went before the judges in the annual OBDA solo/ensemble trials. She had set up a little snack table in the courtyard, and between tuba and B-flat clarinet performances, Katie and I played tag, ate chips, and climbed anything even remotely stationary.
Once Katie figured out how to work the spout on the water cooler, there was no stopping her. She grabbed a cup, filled it up, drank it down, and dutifully tossed the cup in the trash. (After she'd filled, drunk, and dumped six cups in five minutes, though, we put on the brakes.) She dutifully read every letter on the cooler — R-U-B-B-E-R-M-A-I-D — and proudly proclaimed, "It spells 'water'!"
"I think it spells 'Rubbermaid,' Katie," I said.
"Water!" she said.
"No, Rubbermaid," I said. "It's the name of..."
"Water!"
"Okay, water," I said, cutting her some slack. She's a great speller otherwise.
After Katie put away a tuna sandwich, three pickles and two carrots, we bid grandma farewell and headed back home for a nap. All the running she did up and down the hills at UH kept her from being able to put up much of a fight, and we both passed out for almost exactly an hour.
Next on our agenda was the zoo, which we hadn't visited since last summer (despite having a "family membership"). The place was bustling, with a line to get in, and although our membership card had been through the wash a couple of times, the words were clear enough for Katie and I to get in.
We made a beeline for the children's zoo, the best attraction for Katie, and the one which we'd never successfully visited in all our previous visits, as the cute little animals called it a day at 4 p.m. sharp. Today we were in luck, and the little yard was still bustling with little creatures (animal and human).
Katie went straight for the chicken coop, "bock-bocking" at the unamused inmates within. Then the iguana case, where she declared the occupant a snake.
She gave herself the whirlwind tour. The pony, the geese, the sheep, the potbellied pig, the goats... she said "Hi!" to every one of them, and tried to feed handfuls of gravel to a few.
"Go find monkeys!" she eventually declared, and we checked out the rest of the zoo. Her memories of previous visits guided us, from flamingos to ducks to giraffes.
While watching the giraffes and zebras in the safari exhibit, a little blonde girl came tearing around the corner and chirped at Katie, "Hello!"
"Hello, girl!" Katie replied.
A few seconds later, they were best friends. "Soda," Katie said, indicating the bottle of Sprite in her hand. "Chips — Fritos, actually," replied, holding out her snack. The girl's mother sat on the bench next to me and we watched as they followed each other around.
"Come with me and climb on the rocks," the girl said. "Oh, okay," Katie replied, very happy to oblige.
The girl was at least a couple of years older than Katie, and thus a bit more agile. So she helpfully held Katie's hand as they made their way from one rock to another. At one point, though, the pair took a tumble off the rocks onto a pile of leaves.
"Oh, are you okay?" the girl asked, concerned. "Don't worry, I'm fine," Katie said, brushing the dirt off her shirt. My head spun.
Eventually, we had to go. I asked the girl her name. "Leah," she said, then turned to Katie. "What's your name?"
"K-A-T-I-E, Katie!" she replied.
"Katie's my friend now," Leah said.
The two waved at each other energetically until we were finally out of sight. I had a huge smile on my face. Once again I realized that Katie was much, much smarter than Jen and I sometimes give her credit for... and that she really needs to spend time around other kids.
Today went much better than yesterday, when I suddenly felt like Buster Keaton on a bad day.
First, during an outing to Pearlridge Shopping Center, I hurt my back. (I turned and bent to pick Katie up as we were climbing some stairs, and I ended up reaching much lower than I should have.) Then, I hurt my head. (Following Katie too closely as she walked under an empty metal dress rack.)
Finally, while cooking dinner at mom's, I dropped a heavy glass casserole — this after joking earlier that night that I would — and a fat shard bounced right into my ankle.
It was quite a mess. I probably ruined most of the dish towels on hand. Jen, feeling faint but brave, cleaned up the kitchen while mom bandaged and tightly bound my foot.
Katie's contribution to the small crisis was climbing onto my chest as I lay on the floor and jumping on my stomach.
It was a small wound, but a deep one, and grandma was a little nervous (constantly asking me if I was "a bleeder"), and mom and Jen threatened to take me to the emergency room.
I figured I'd had a lifetime's worth of emergency room visits, though, and willed my foot to behave. A few bandages and a night's sleep later, and everything seems fine.
"So now we're even," Jen said, smirking, referring to a longstanding "imbalance" between us. "You've cleaned up my puke, but I've cleaned up your blood."
"At least I didn't get any on you," I replied.
"Eew."
Indeed.
Oh cool. Our favorite episode of "Duckman" is on tonight: "Aged Heat."
How they get away with some of that stuff on television is beyond me. But I love it.
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