Book Reports, Commuting with Nature, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 02.03.2002

I am an actor. I act in morality plays. I am a street performer of sorts, displaying my lessons on the DC subway. I captivate some, yet most are captives. My daughter is both my unwitting foil and the object of my ulterior motives. While my focus is on her (just yesterday, we performed a One Act about a nearby little girl whose father was no where to be found), she teaches our captives what they need to know. Her admonishments are clearly enunciated, perfectly timed, and to the point. Recently, in that famous scene from our wildly popular delight...

Book Reports, Commuting with Nature / 08.02.2002

My ride into work this morning: I take the subway but it's elevated much of the way in. It's getting lighter earlier and my commute and the sunrise are almost in sync. I'd say by next Wednesday it should be rising just as we come to the surface. When waiting for my morning train I usually position myself towards the middle of the platform. That way I'm perfectly situated to transfer to another line at the Metro Center stop. Today, however, the train was pulling into my station just as my daughter and I exited the elevator. So we raced to...

Commuting with Nature, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 23.04.2001

As mentioned earlier, I take my daughter to school on the Metro (DC's subway). Well, actually, I take both of my daughters to school. When commuting downtown with a 4 1/2 and 3 year old at 7 in the morning, you never know what to expect. What are my fellow passengers thinking of this trio of two highly-charged youngsters and one aging adult? Despite my daily scans of their faces, it's often hard to tell. On our better days we bake cookies and read books. But mixing make-believe ingredients can quickly change to sibling screams as one invades the other's space....

Commuting with Nature, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 02.04.2001

This morning started out as most weekday mornings do: a rush to get us and the kids ready for work and school and a mad dash to the car, making sure everything and everyone is in place. As we pulled out of the driveway, I said "ding dong". "What does that mean?" my four year old asked. "Ding dong," I repeated. My daughter likes to make up games. She especially enjoys making the rules (the province of four year olds). Often, on the way home from school and work she'll decide to play a guessing game. You know, "it's green...

Child's Play, Commuting with Nature, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 22.02.2001

As we walked through the door she began her incantation. Raising her hands before her, eyes closed, she began: I wish, I wish with all my heart To fly with dragons in the land of heart I stared, transfixed, as she repeated her words again and again. I knew her chant from her favorite cartoon show. And I took special note of a four year old's version of an often-heard rhyme. Her eyelids moved to the beat of her voice. When she stopped her eyes slowly opened and looked at me. “Now, I’ll teach you how to make a wish. If you say it...