Saturday, January 17, 2009

Shooting stars and tigers

When we walk outside Leila says she is going to look for shooting stars. Almost home, Ali complains, "I can't see shooting stars." "I can't either," I tell him. "Maybe somebody blow them. Maybe God did," he decides.

I ask Ali to share his cookie with me. He refuses. Leila offers me a piece of hers. "You're so generous. That's so nice," I tell her. Then Ali decides to offer me a piece, too. "Psychology!" I crow.

"I want a tiger," Leila tells me. "A baby one." "What will he eat?" I ask. "Not your brother."
"I want a tiger," Ali says. "A little one." He holds his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart to show how big." "What will he eat?" I ask him. "My foot," he replies.

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