Dear Sweet Bear, Your verbal skills for 2 years 4 months are over the top. You love to do word plays or tell little stories. Sometimes you're a little poet.
Yesterday on the way back from an exuberant trip to St. Louis we did our traditional stop in a small town, Greenup, IL. Greenup, the sight of Pank's Pizza, the Candy Kitchen, and Abe Lincoln's first statements negative to slavery. A 1.7 square mile town of 1, 532, as we entered Pank's Pizza for dinner it was clear we were not likely going to be welcomed as number 1,533, 1,534, and 1,535. Laser beam eyes traced our path as we sat down to order. Growing up I was stared at a lot. Maybe I dressed a wee unconventional, but I really didn't think so, or maybe it was my Polish honker?... but ask my mom, my clothing choices were the bane of her existence. Everywhere we went, "Why are people staring at you." How am I to know? Does it have to be such a negative thing? So for the most part I can block out poppin' eyes until it gets really intense as this experience in Greenup was. At the end of our meal a woman that was sitting to our left, reading a book alone enjoying her mean came to us, bent down and told us that she was an elementary principal and she wanted to tell us that we had such a nice boy! He was eating his dinner so nicely and she really like hearing him say his please and thank you's!!! Wow! Good thing she didn't see you flinging your water bottle across the grass at the Arch a couple of hours earlier screaming! She may have concluded a different opinion. I have to remember sometimes that people aren't always staring to be rude or to pry, sometimes it is just because they think we're interesting and might like to get to know us! Maybe we just didn't know the secrete town head bob or something.
After Pank's (which was delicious) we went to the historic Candy Kitchen. Daddy had a chocolate soda, good but not like Lou's at Zaharako's in Columbus, and you wanted a scoop of homemade butter pecan ice cream. You professed its yumminess. While reading the Candy Kitchen's brochure you started "reading it out loud" and graced us with a lovely and poignant poem to round out our trip.
"Ice cream"
"How I eat ice cream?"
"Its all gone."
-Henry John Carl Thompson July 17, 2011
I know! It is brillant. Perhaps you were inspired by the spirit of Mr. Lincoln to really express yourself. Who knows?! It is possible? Right?
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| Screaming, "I LOVE ICE CREAM!" |
2 comments:
Henry is quite the little poet! I can't wait until he can begin blogging too.
These pictures are the bane of my existence!
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