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I interviewed the kids for Mother’s Day this year:

Why did God make mothers?

F. To help us.
G. Because they were potatoes
S. we draw

How did God make mothers?

F. He put the bones and the gooey red stuff together
G. He squished all the stuff together
S. By drawing on paper.

What ingredients are mothers made of?

F. Out of gooey red stuff
G. Out of hair, rotten eggs, and pizza.
S. cut-up paper.

Why did God give you your mom instead of some other mom?

F. She paints houses with me.
G. She likes to do art.
S. She draws.

What kind of little girl was your mom?

F. Funny and nice.
G. She was a tiny little girl who loved ponies, I think.
S. Like a horse and a sheep.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?

F. That he was nice and that he was smart.
G. If they wanted the same things, like three kids.
S. I got mad.

Why did your mom marry your dad?

F. Cause she liked him.
G. Because they were in love.
S. Cause he was a sheep. That was funny.

Who is the boss at your house?

F. Mommy
G. Mommy. She’s in charge of the rules.
S. Ollie. He went bye-bye and Ms. Sarai is coming home. She is tired of going.

If you could give mommy anything in the world, it would be:

F. A new car
G. Art.
S. An elephant

My favorite place to go with mommy is:

F. Legoland
G. New York
S. Chick-o-le

This year the kid’s entered the school “Tres de Mayo” logo contest. The winning logo was used to promote the school’s annual auction. Neither of the kid’s had the winning logo, but I loved what they came up with.
Here’s George’s:

And here’s Francis’s:

Why “Tres” and not “Cinco” you ask…? The auction was held on May 3.

Reading Old Yeller aloud with the kids, I was fine until Travis’s papa was talking to him about having to shoot Old Yeller:

“That was rough,” he said. “That was as rough a thing as I ever heard tell of happening to a boy. And I’m mighty proud to learn how my boy stood up to it. You couldn’t ask any more of a grown man.”

and then later, when his papa is trying to encourage a proper response to life’s adversity:

“It’s not a thing you can forget. I don’t guess it’s a thing you ought to forget. What I mean is, things like that happen. They may seem mighty cruel and unfair, but that’s how life is part of the time.

“But that isn’t the only way life is. A part of the time, it’s mighty good. And a man can’t afford to waste all the good part, worrying about the bad parts. That makes it all bad. . . . You understand?”

I’m sure I didn’t cry when I first read this as a nine-year old. As a 37-year old father of three, I had to take a couple of breaks.