Accents intrigue even the young.

I go to physical therapy. I try to arrange it so the little kidlets get to stay home with Kenzi. That doesn't always happen.

They love to go to therapy. They get to see daddy. They get hot chocolate. They get to "play" on equipment they shouldn't be playing on. They get to see Pieter...the therapist that works on me. Pieter was the therapist who worked on Bella when she needed it a while ago as well. Bella loves Pieter.

She draws him pictures. She gives him Valentines. She gives him hugs and hugs and hugs. She jumps on him. She tells him stories and talks and talks and talks. He doesn't seem to mind. He has boys and has commented how he would have liked to have had a girl as well.

Actually, all my children have gone with me to therapy at one time or other. If not for therapy than to hear Pieter talk. He's from the Netherlands and speaks Dutch. He's been in the U.S. for many years so I'm sure his accent isn't as strong as it could be...but he still has one.

I didn't realize Bella noticed until today. We were in the car on the way to therapy and she said...and I love the wording here. She said, "Hey, if I was born of Pieter I would have an action too." (Been reading the Bible baby girl?) I giggled at the wording, ran it through the mom filter and figured out she was saying accent. Too funny.

I let her know even his kids don't have accents. It sort of depends on where you're raised what kind of accent you have. She was pleased to know that she does have an accent it's just American. And she thought it was funny that different parts of America have different accents.

Don't dash dreams...throw'em a bone dang it.

I was sitting at the computer today when the backdoor slammed and I heard screaming, "MOOOOOOM, you gotta come see this!!!" "We found a dinosaur bone in the backyard...it's all white with scratches...it's huge...you gotta come see this!" This was all said at a high pitched excited screech. Bella was the one using words. Josie was just running around screaming.

Of course being a curious (note: see previous post) soul, I went out. It was like walking through an excited pack of dogs waving around small pink and yellow shovels. They were running around my legs screaming how exciting it would be if we had real dinosaur bones in our yard.

Little side note: It's possible. We do live in Utah. EXCEPT, I know they built this lot up with a boatload of junk "dirt"...cement, rebar, rock, glass, and not much dirt. Probably no bones.

Do you want to guess what they had dug up? :-)

The sprinkling system. Poor kids. I could totally see how they thought they had a dinosaur bone. I really wanted to let them believe it too. I stood there for a few seconds watching them dig like maniacs trying to find the end of this bone. When it was obvious they were prepared to dig up the whole sprinkling system I told them what they had unearthed.

OH, the disappointment. Precious little archaeological excavators. Bella sat back and just looked at it. Josie noticed the lack of digging mania from Bella and sat back and looked at Bella. She started pushing the dirt back into the large hole they had created. I reminded her of how we put all that pipe into the holes last year. She remembered. She had a disappointed smile on her face and said, "oh yeah." Gol dang.

What did I learn?

1. Don't be a dream dasher.
2. Let the kids dig up the whole darn yard believing we have dinosaur bones.
3. To see the light go out of a child's eyes causes regret.
4. I hate regret.
5. I'm tired of being practical.

If ever I need a digger, I've got two.

Was that a practical thing to say? Dang it.