Snippets from the week gone by:

• Yrsa speaks mostly clearly, especially considering that she’s not yet two-and-a-half. She doesn’t quite hit the mark on some words, however. For instance, “fork and knife” sounds very much like something less innocuous (try saying it under your breath a few times quickly, and I’m sure it’ll become clear). Now that I think of it, that’s probably the reason that we English speakers more commonly say “knife and fork.”
• Brynja, having carefully pondered the tradition of Saturday candy, has decided that we should also begin observing “toy day,” one day every week when all the kids get toys. Ideally, in her mind, this day would be Sunday, but she’s not picky as long as we decide soon.
• The other day we were getting the four younger kids loaded up into the car to go to town and, as usual, they were bickering. From between clenched teeth, I muttered, “I wish you guys didn’t have to fight about everything.”

  “We’re not fighting,” Petra replied in the most reasonable tone you’ve ever heard. “I’m just telling him how I see things.”

• On another recent trip to town, explaining his sister’s sudden loud cry, Tage piped up, “I tried to give her a high five, but I accidentally hit her in the eye. Oh! Eye-five!”
• Yet again in the car, Lydia was musing about her brother’s moodiness. “How do you say medelålderskris in English?” I told her it was a mid-life crisis, but that was more like something I would have. “Or not,” I said, laughing.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” she replied. “You are forty and wearing red pants.” (To her credit, she was laughing when she said it, but still … ouch. :D)