Am I still five?

The day after Benjamin turned five he woke up and wondered out loud, "Am I still five?" He had waited so long, it seemed, to be five that it might not still be true. . . "Yes, dear, you are still five."

I'm pretending Mom's the boss.

Benj, "Mom, can I have one of these crackers? (The small, square, crackers which come with 'peanut butter' or 'cheese' in small packs, which we get on special occasions.)
Dad answers, "No, you can have a regular (saltine) cracker."
"I am not asking you Dad. I am asking Mom."
"But I am the 'boss' Benjamin."
"Well, I am pretending Mom's the boss right now. . ."
"Oh."

So where did all the knights go?

As the knights were out taking longer than usual (having a picnic) the king kept wondering what should be written next because the first post was so motivating to write. Each time a thought would come up to make the king's post list the rest of the castle's to do items also clamored for his attention. Even the great foes of the forest had taken large amounts of his time pie


(A worthy opponent who fell.)

and the cow kept giving milk after it took up residence in the barn.
Good intentions also assuaged the king. =) Alas, 2008 is gone and now it is time to try again.

I think the knights have returned. . . I'll go look.

The clink of cups and knights having milk toast

"I don't want to play Knights with him! All his knights ever do is go on picnics and have lunch!" My wife told me about this exchange between her and Joseph about his younger brother, Benjamin and I laughed out loud. I could see the picture in my head of Joseph trying to engage in battle with the castle all decked out with spearmen, knights, and the like while Benjamin brings his knights riding up, "Do you want to have a picnic?" Instead of the sounds of death and mayhem around the castle, you hear the clink of cups and knights having milk toast.

Well, so that is how this blog received its name: Knights at a Picnic.

I hope to have more fun lines to write as seen through the eyes of our children--as family is really what it is all about, even though I often forget. My wife reminds me when you are dying you won't be telling me, "I wish I spent more time at the office."

I am sure I will find all sorts of things on which to write.