The twins and I ditched preschool and spent the morning watching fine cartoons such as "Maisy" and eating chocolate donuts, sugary cereals, cheddar-flavored crunchy corn twists (Cheetos TM) and washing it all down with fruit punch that claimed to contain along with all the corn syrup the equivalent of an entire grape, though which species of grape was undisclosed so the exact percentage of actual fruit juice is unknown to me.

After a harrowing drive without car seats, we picked up the car seats from Barbara's work and were on our way to the Phoenix Children's Museum. All the delights awaited us, including most of the school buses packing up their students and leaving the place just about deserted. Mmm...desserted.

The museum is mainly a series of contraptions that the kids can fool around with while subtly learning about important science principles such as air pressure and chaotic variables and car washes. There is also an art project room. We painted a large castle. The only color available was yellow, which is a fine color for a castle, but I didn't steal any other colors because I didn't want to get kicked out. We'd only just got there.

We played with puzzles. Ender served pizza from the pizza puzzle to the crab from the sea creature puzzle. Ender, Remy, and the crab were delighted.

We left the museum after two hours and went to my work at the cat and dog rescue. A massive Doberman named Achilles was playing in the yard. It is important for me to know which dogs play well with children so I threw Ender and Remy into the yard with him. Achilles is slightly taller than the two of them so there was a risk of his bulk knocking them down. He licked their faces in greeting and then went back to playing fetch with Jeremy, one of the volunteers. Doesn't try to eat children; good to know.

I must confer with my boss to see if I can bring my nephews in to evaluate the dogs' response to them and perhaps get a bit of pay out of it. No sense risking their lives for free, after all.

Halloween is almost upon the nephews. Remy has a Bakugan costume in which he looks quite dapper. Ender has no costume yet, but there are schemes to place him in his mouse costume from last year and equip him with a sword and feathered cap. Reepicheep shall live again.

Remy has a bit of a fever this morning, about 101 degrees Fahrenheit. He doesn't seem terribly unhappy and is lying on the couch watching Maisy. That Maisy is off the chain. She does what she wants. I approve of this crudely-drawn show.

Ender had a fever last week. Spent a lot of time watching Wall-E. We watch and name the things we see. Both twins are getting pretty good at identifying garbage and astral phenomena. "Atari."

"Spork!"

"Nebula."

"Sputnik!"

Excellent. Their training is coming along well. I will also pull up Youtube videos of space shuttle launches and animations. What I would like is a Wall-E guided tour of the universe. Wall-E could travel through space and observe all sorts of stuff. Maybe even a DVD menu where you plot your own course.

Damn you, Disney. These kids could be geniuses if you weren't so busy trying to market every single lamp post that appears in a Pixar film. Oh Pixar. It was nice while it lasted.

Seesee

Ender and Remy remember Luis. I wonder now, if they ever wonder where their other uncle is. Remy, I suspect, has a sharpish memory. Far less now, but often when Kelly and I first took up in his old room, I would open the door and from another room I would hear the nephews shout ''See-see!''.

They come zooming around the corner now and they find me, only me.

This doesn't happen often now. I don't think it may happen again, it has become so rare. I am not sure how I feel about that.

I have a favorite t-shirt of The Boy's. I keep it near. Remy jumped upon me as I was trying to take a late afternoon nap. He spyed the shirt and jabbed his finger at it. "See-see!"

Remy only saw the back of the shirt which readS 'Luigi'. I am not ready to think that Remy can read and I believe it must have been the redness of the shirt that he recognized. None of us has a shirt of deep red with white lettering.

Except now, me, I suppose.

I hope I remember to ask Remy about it when he is able to verbalize the more abstract, such as loss and grief and puzzlement and impotent, directionless, anger.

I shall hide the shirt from him and reveal it later. If Remy continues to see it on my bed, as a pillowcase to one of my pillows, it may burn my bridge to his remembering and any association of the shirt with that of his littlest lost uncle See-see.

Poop to That

Ender, in all his glory, did drop a masslve deuce in the sphere of porcelain Influence.

The boys are close to three years old and have thus far resisisted mightily the training of pottyness.

I will break them yet. Soon they will poop on command. On my enemies. It will be glorious.