Annoyed, Annoyed, Annoyed

What was supposed to be a pleasant dinner turned into an ugly affair.
Complete with raised voices, sour faces, and flailing cutlery in tightly gripped fists. So much
for listening to opinion and keeping quiet. Besides the waitress forgot my gambas and my crema catalana was blah... It's time to turn up Franz F and sing "Take Me Out."

Sweet

We were talking about hair colour. Sebastian tells me that his older brother has black hair. I tell him, nobody has black hair (At least, naturally black hair - the un-dyed kind). Mikey has dark brown hair like me. I ask him what colour his hair is:


" My hair is the colour of a toasted bun. It's golden in some parts and warm brown in others."

This makes me smile. It reminds me of the homemade pulla Markku bakes on the weekends.

Second Careers

We were having dinner at Lappi when Seba earnestly asked his father,
"Would you like to be a lawyer for a ninja (referring to himself)
if you don't become a postman?" I look up from my poronkaristys.
I am trying to make the connection between postmen and ninjas.
Seba catches me smiling and asks, "What do you want to be when you
grow up Mommy?"