So asked Gennie when I told her we were going to go to the annual carnival at the elementary school last Friday night. It was very disappointing to Miss Genniebean when I had to explain that carnivals have nothing to do with cars, and that one shiny new car in a matter of a few weeks time was plenty (we recently replaced a 10-year-old car with a 4-year-old car, which was enough of an upgrade for us - our second car is still 10 years old, and we expect it'll just have to keep going for a while to come). Gennie got over her disappointment quickly when she got to the carnival, and realized that "carnival" meant candy and toys and games and bouncing around a lot. Of course, any parent who has ever taken a child to the elementary school carnival knows what these things are like. If I somehow am judged to be a really bad person after I die, a neverending elementary school carnival is where an avenging God will send me. There, I would stand in line for all eternity with a whiny child, waiting to throw beanbags into the clown's mouth for that coveted plastic parachute toy. Even though I dread the annual carnival, it was heaven for the girls, who ate their fill of pasta and cookies before cakewalking and bouncing in the giant inflatable castle thing ("No, honey, other kids are waiting, you really do need to come out NOW!"). There was face painting and lollipops and cheap plastic stuff everywhere. It was great. And there were lots of children having screaming fits as their sugar highs melted into overtired misery, which made me feel a little better when all my girls wanted was to go "do that game one more time, pleeease?" Nobody in my family had a tantrum, which I was very grateful for. Eleanor did sniffle and snuffle a bit on the way home, because, "Oh, Mom... they won't have the carnival again tomorrow. I'm sad!" Dave and I looked at each other, tried not to grin, and said, "Yeah, we know, sweetie. They only have the carnival once every year. It's a bummer, huh?" And after all, there are no shiny new cars at the carnival. They really should think about that for next year's event.

I hope my girls don't think I'm making fun of them, but I do love their unintentional plays on words and their childish mispronunciations. I loved the car-nival question, for instance. Gennie's are the best; Sarah goes to Wally-ball (volleyball) practice, and at the carnival Gen acquired some yummy willypops (lollipops). When told that Auntie lives near Berkeley, Gen guffawed and said, "Silly Mommy! She doesn't live in BURPY!" A sequel is not a second book or movie, but rather something that flies over your head at the beach. Eleanor's misses are fun at times too; although I expect they will decline quickly as she learns more language. Thirteen and fourteen do not really exist as separate entities for Eleanor, they all sort of blend into "firteen." She can't quite seem to manage "Pooh" rather than "Poop" when she sees a picture or movie featuring the cuddly bear, much to her sisters' amusement. "Grandma Barb" and "Granola Bar" are the same thing - she loves to eat Grandma Barbs. We have "happles" in our fruit bowl (too bad 'Enry 'Iggins ain't 'ere), and "snack" means anything that she wants to eat. Things she doesn't want to eat are not classified as snacks as far as Eleanor is concerned, and will argue that yogurt and bananas are "not a snack, Mom. I want candy."

It was a good night for Eleanor and Gennie tonight - they went straight to bed without a fuss, after I finished painting their toenails pink with sparkles. I'm afraid they'll only have twinkly toes in the house, though, since we had our first snowstorm of the season today. No more sandals! I expect Halloween will be cold as usual, and then all of a sudden we'll be into the winter holidays. Time is flying.