Grateful for: The hard head and rag doll-like indestructibility of my son Stephen, who is fine after a heart-stopping tumble down the stairs.

Baking: A loaf of cheese bread, which I intended to give to one of the neighbors on the next block, a Pearl Harbor vet, in honor of Veteran's Day. It was a well-intentioned idea, but one I ended up feeling too awkward to carry out, however, since I barely know the gentleman. Instead, I gave the bread to Mr. Byron, another neighbor. He kindly lets us park in his driveway, so periodically I bake him some bread or cookies to reciprocate.

To the Movies

Daniel was off from school today for Veterans Day. (I almost wrote Armistice Day since that is what my mother persists in calling it.) For the most part, Daniel played pretty well with Stephen and Matthew. Lately, the boys have been enjoying the Hotwheels racetrack that Tab has picked up for them at yard sales. Daniel is in charge of putting it together. He arranges very complicated layouts with spectacular drops and hairpin turns. It is funny listening in on their conversation: Daniel is, of course, very bossy, but he also attempts to take on a grownup role and supervise his younger siblings. Sometimes they let him, and sometimes they rebel, leading to shouting matches upstairs.

Today I gave the boys an incentive to be good: I promised them that we would go see a movie if they behaved. The only kid movie playing was The Adventures of Elmo in Grouchland. Oh, yeah, and one other little movie by the name of Pokémon. I didn't even offer that one as an option, however.

We arrived early because I suspected we might have to wait in line since it is a holiday for schools and some businesses. I was right. There were a number of people with kids in tow waiting to buy tickets for Pokémon. A hand-written sign declared that the theater was all out of Pokémon cards, which had been given out with the movie tickets. We got our tickets for Elmo ($16 for the four of us--no wonder we don't go to the movies much!), visited the restroom, and still managed to get to our seats ten minutes before the movie started.

We were in one of the smaller theaters and it filled up fast. Most of the audience members resembled our own group: a mother with one or two preschool-aged children and an older one off from school for the day. Soon the previews started, and then the movie itself, and parents were still trickling in. Many of them ended up having to sit in the front two rows; others wandered the theater looking in vain for several seats together. It is a pet peeve of mine when people come late to a movie. It is disruptive and discourteous, I think. Of course, I have been conditioned by my father, who is always at least twenty minutes early to every movie.

The movie was an enjoyable, forgettable bit of fluff. It was kind of a kick to see Sesame Street characters on the big screen. Not enough Cookie Monster, my favorite character, however. Mandy Patinkin was appropriately villainous as the selfish, greedy Huxley who steals the belongings of everyone in Grouchland.

The boys enjoyed it, even Daniel who is getting a little old for Sesame Street. Leaving the theater, I saw the opportunity for a teaching moment.

"So, Daniel, what was Huxley doing that made everyone so mad at him?" I asked.

"Taking other people's things."

"Right, and how did that make the other people feel?"

"Sad. And mad."

"Right." I let it go, and left him to draw his own conclusions.

Conversation in the Car

"Mama, does Santa Claus really exist?" asked Daniel, who is starting to question. He is, after all, 6 and a half. I expect this will be the last year that he will truly believe in Santa.

"Well, I believe he exists, though I've never actually seen him."

"I'm going to ask him for Pokémon cards," said Daniel, who obviously thinks he will have a better chance of getting Pokémon loot from Santa than from his father and me.

"I hope Santa brings me cars," Stephen remarked.

"Like you guys need more cars!"

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