Hello Everyone.
"Neva," I asked my 3 1/2-year-old daughter, "would you like an olive cheese sandwich for dinner?"
"No. I had one before this day when you were at work."
"Yesterday?"
"Yah."
"So you don't want one tonight?"
"No ... (pause) ... I know what I want!!" she adds excitedly.
"What's that?"
"An olive cheese sandwich."
Perhaps next time I'll be sure to turn the television off before I ask.
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Friday, June 20, 2003
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Mad Artist?
Hello Everyone.
My 3 1/2-year-old daughter has proclaimed that she wants to be an artist when she grows up. Knowing this, a friend brought over a kid's craft set with paints, crayons, markers, colored pencils and pastels. Neva was so thrilled with the gift that she set straight away to painting. Two days later those once brightly colored discs of watercolors were now dingy black-brown chips and her paint brush had but 3 little bristels left.
I guess she's found her medium!
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
My 3 1/2-year-old daughter has proclaimed that she wants to be an artist when she grows up. Knowing this, a friend brought over a kid's craft set with paints, crayons, markers, colored pencils and pastels. Neva was so thrilled with the gift that she set straight away to painting. Two days later those once brightly colored discs of watercolors were now dingy black-brown chips and her paint brush had but 3 little bristels left.
I guess she's found her medium!
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
For the Birds ...
Hello Everyone.
The other day as we were outside doing odd jobs in the garden, my 3 1/3-year-old daughter Neva announced to me that she had a new friend. Looking around, I was hard pressed to see anyone besides the two of us but I played along nevertheless.
As it turned out, Neva had found a garden snail, about the size of a 25-cent piece, whom she named Smokey Arthur Stripes. I explained to Neva that the snail needed to have food and shelter to survive. Having finally convinced her that snails don't eat cookies and really wouldn't like to live in the house with us, Neva found a suitable home.
It's dark and cool inside, has good airflow, and with the addition of some vegetable leaves and a few pieces of paper, Stripes the snail is now living a life of luxury in the bird feeder.
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
The other day as we were outside doing odd jobs in the garden, my 3 1/3-year-old daughter Neva announced to me that she had a new friend. Looking around, I was hard pressed to see anyone besides the two of us but I played along nevertheless.
As it turned out, Neva had found a garden snail, about the size of a 25-cent piece, whom she named Smokey Arthur Stripes. I explained to Neva that the snail needed to have food and shelter to survive. Having finally convinced her that snails don't eat cookies and really wouldn't like to live in the house with us, Neva found a suitable home.
It's dark and cool inside, has good airflow, and with the addition of some vegetable leaves and a few pieces of paper, Stripes the snail is now living a life of luxury in the bird feeder.
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
Monday, June 16, 2003
House Pets ...
Hello Everyone.
My daughter Neva was watching television one morning when a new show called Dumb Bunnies came on. I had never heard of it before but was certain, with such a title, it wasn't appropriate for my 3 1/2-year-old who still didn't have the "D" word in her vocabulary. So I picked up the remote control to change the channel.
"No, Mommy!" came the protest. "I want this one!"
"I will find something else, Neva, but you're not watching 'Dumb Bunnies'." I said, hoping she wouldn't learn the word as I used it.
"No! I want to watch the Dust Bunnies!"
Hmm... come to think of it, I'm not sure I'm happy she's learned that term either.
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
My daughter Neva was watching television one morning when a new show called Dumb Bunnies came on. I had never heard of it before but was certain, with such a title, it wasn't appropriate for my 3 1/2-year-old who still didn't have the "D" word in her vocabulary. So I picked up the remote control to change the channel.
"No, Mommy!" came the protest. "I want this one!"
"I will find something else, Neva, but you're not watching 'Dumb Bunnies'." I said, hoping she wouldn't learn the word as I used it.
"No! I want to watch the Dust Bunnies!"
Hmm... come to think of it, I'm not sure I'm happy she's learned that term either.
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Friday, June 13, 2003
To The Rescue ...
Hello Everyone.
Last week I finally went to the doctor's office with the cold that had made me not only tired but downright miserable. My 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva accompanied me and she sat quietly as I described my symptoms in vivid detail to the doctor.
I launched into some sort of filibuster about how my sinuses ached and my throat hurt. There was something about how productive my seemingly endless cough was and how I was convinced I had an infection since every tissue took on a green hue after I used it.
Today, I was once again complaining about the remnants of my cold to my wife Kathleen who by now had heard the same sob story for close to two weeks. Her sympathy waning, I was thrilled when Neva came to my defense.
"Daddy's not feeling well, he's got the greens."
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
Last week I finally went to the doctor's office with the cold that had made me not only tired but downright miserable. My 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva accompanied me and she sat quietly as I described my symptoms in vivid detail to the doctor.
I launched into some sort of filibuster about how my sinuses ached and my throat hurt. There was something about how productive my seemingly endless cough was and how I was convinced I had an infection since every tissue took on a green hue after I used it.
Today, I was once again complaining about the remnants of my cold to my wife Kathleen who by now had heard the same sob story for close to two weeks. Her sympathy waning, I was thrilled when Neva came to my defense.
"Daddy's not feeling well, he's got the greens."
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
Um, well, ahhh ... Hmmm ...
Hello Everyone.
The four of us were out for an afternoon walk the other day, when my naturally inquisitive 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva asked to be lifted up to pick a leaf off a tree.
"What kind of leaf is this, Mamma?" she asked.
"That's a maple leaf," I said.
She admired it for a moment and then, turning to Bob, she exclaimed: "Look, Daddy! I got a maple leaf from the maple tree!" As if her mind hit a speed bump, she again paused, looking back at the tree, then at Bob and back to the tree again.
And with that she asked one of those unanswerable questions that really stump parents: "Where are the maples?"
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
The four of us were out for an afternoon walk the other day, when my naturally inquisitive 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva asked to be lifted up to pick a leaf off a tree.
"What kind of leaf is this, Mamma?" she asked.
"That's a maple leaf," I said.
She admired it for a moment and then, turning to Bob, she exclaimed: "Look, Daddy! I got a maple leaf from the maple tree!" As if her mind hit a speed bump, she again paused, looking back at the tree, then at Bob and back to the tree again.
And with that she asked one of those unanswerable questions that really stump parents: "Where are the maples?"
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Monday, June 09, 2003
Got Gas?
Hello Everyone.
We were out for a walk the other day, my 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva happily riding her bike. We passed the gas station where she, with my husband Bob, put air in her flat tire a month ago.
"We'd better go in here, Mommy," she told me. My tire's almost out of gas."
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
We were out for a walk the other day, my 3 1/2-year-old daughter Neva happily riding her bike. We passed the gas station where she, with my husband Bob, put air in her flat tire a month ago.
"We'd better go in here, Mommy," she told me. My tire's almost out of gas."
Happy sweeping,
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, June 03, 2003
Another Day, Another Sniffle ...
Hello Everyone.
Maybe by tomorrow I can get back to writting new stories. In the meantime, as I get another tissue for my now, here is a story from a little while ago.
A large part of being a parent involves the giving of guidance and direction to our children. Most conversations with a three-year-old have clear cut yes and no answers. No, you can't have chocolate for breakfast or yes, you have to wear your rubber boots because it's raining. There are times though when my three-year-old daughter just baffles me with her answers to seemingly innocuous questions.
A few days ago, at her usual bath time, I asked Neva if she wanted me to wash her hair. "Later" she said. "How much later?" I asked. "When I'm 4," was her response. I felt the crest of that wave fast approaching and all I could muster was, "We'll see..."
Today she asks: "When my fish dies, can we get a dog?" Isn't that a bit like trading in a Chevy for a Rolls Royce, I thought? "We'll see," I said.
Maybe the phrase "We'll see" is a parental safety net that keeps us from falling into conversational oblivion. I find myself using it with more and more regularity. Is my three-year-old really asking questions that I cannot answer or have I just become afraid of saying "no"?
Originally published November 15, 2002.
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
Maybe by tomorrow I can get back to writting new stories. In the meantime, as I get another tissue for my now, here is a story from a little while ago.
A large part of being a parent involves the giving of guidance and direction to our children. Most conversations with a three-year-old have clear cut yes and no answers. No, you can't have chocolate for breakfast or yes, you have to wear your rubber boots because it's raining. There are times though when my three-year-old daughter just baffles me with her answers to seemingly innocuous questions.
A few days ago, at her usual bath time, I asked Neva if she wanted me to wash her hair. "Later" she said. "How much later?" I asked. "When I'm 4," was her response. I felt the crest of that wave fast approaching and all I could muster was, "We'll see..."
Today she asks: "When my fish dies, can we get a dog?" Isn't that a bit like trading in a Chevy for a Rolls Royce, I thought? "We'll see," I said.
Maybe the phrase "We'll see" is a parental safety net that keeps us from falling into conversational oblivion. I find myself using it with more and more regularity. Is my three-year-old really asking questions that I cannot answer or have I just become afraid of saying "no"?
Originally published November 15, 2002.
Happy sweeping,
Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com
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