We're still here, and we're feeling better. Will's using the computer for Gospelink these days, and I'm trying to catch up after so much sickness and busyness.
A few days ago at supper Jaan told me that he could speak English. He usually insists that he can't, so I was a little surprised. Our conversation went like this (all in Russian):
Jaan: "Mama, I can speak English."
Me: "That's good."
Jaan: "Listen, we're eating PIZZA. That's English." (He said all that in Russian, and declined pizza like a Russian word."
Me: "Yes, but pizza is the same in Russian and English."
Jaan: "Well, when I was running around before supper, I was yelling 'keekalee-keekalee.' That's English."
Me: "I heard. What does it mean?" (He usually yells nonsense words when he runs around.)
Jaan: "It means 'go fast.'"
Me: "Ah, quickly. Wow! You really can speak English."
Another conversation. . . .
Jaan: "Look how much kasha I'm eating. I'm going to grow up really big and buy a motorcycle."
Me: "Great! Then you can drive me around."
Me: "Why not?"
Jaan: "There's not much room on a motorcycle."
Me: "Yes, but there's usually room for two. You can drive, and I'll ride behind you."
Jaan: "No, you won't fit. But you can get your own motorcycle and ride next to me, okay?"
This one may be funny only if you see it, but it makes me laugh almost every day, so I'll try to describe it. When we have eggs for breakfast, it's Jaan's job to scramble them. Raia waits expectantly in her chair. When Jaan's done, he puts hers on a plate and majestically announces, "Baby, your breakfast is ready!" She raises both arms up in the air, fork in one hand, and enthusiastically screams her appreciation. Jaan puts her plate in front of her, and her hands drop for her to dive in. It's almost like a ritual of some kind.
And I want to know: why does God give preschoolers so much energy and parents so little?
We're headed out to play on the ice slide. . . .