UneasyLeaving

Our worst moments today came with the best language. This morning Opal did not get to open the garage door, after an interaction she found unfair, and while she howled with fury I said to her "You feel cheated." She said, outraged, "I was NOT cheated. YOU cheated me." Ah, the importance of indicating agency.

After that, the day went calmly. We had dinner with friends and brought cucumber salad (dice cucumber; cover in yogurt, salt generously. Optionally add ground cumin, cumin seeds, diced tomatoes, parsley, finely chopped garlic, whatever, more or less). Opal adores cucumber salad and there was spaghetti, which she adores almost as much, and people and trains to play with and books she hadn't read, and then, alas, we had to leave. This was not a smooth process. In the car on the way home, she said she didn't want to go to her friend's house anymore. "He can come to our house. It's too hard to leave." I suggested that he had trouble leaving our house too, so that didn't seem like it really solved the problem, it would be better to learn how to leave well. "Oh, I know how. It's just… dis-easy." "Dis-easy?" "'Dis-easy' means 'un-easy'. You know, not easy." "Like, hard?" "Well, at least dis-easy."

Read to Opal: I read two chapters of The Patchwork Girl of Oz, she read a book about a bear called Eric who likes math.

The Running Book Count: 225 + 62 (last year 1170 + 121)