Cyrano's kids - heartwarming little varmints.

When I arrived home from work today, my third son came running up to me to tell on his oldest brother. I found a note with the following message on my computer desk (how did he know where to leave it to get my attention?): "I'm really sorry that I broke the mirror in the main bathroom. here is thirty-one dollars to pay for it. love, [son #1]

P.S. I broke the mirror accidently but the real problem is I was looking for smarties. I'm sorry."

Now, it may be that he was trying to avoid me flying off into a destructive rage, but hey, it worked. My heart is warmed and I find myself impressed with my little responsibility-taking son.


The other anecdote comes from son #2, who was doing some work at the table last night, and asked me to spell 'me' for him. After saying the letters, I noticed he'd written it incorrectly, so I repeated them to him - he double-checked and said, 'ok' without changing anything. I said it a third time and realized he'd reached a pivotal moment in his young learning career - his second language (French) was finally beginning to interfere with his first - so he though 'm', 'i', when I said 'm', 'e', owing to the pronunciation of these letters being the same between the two languages. All the frog-hearts in the blogosphere should be duly warmed.