Tau and Dave have taken to engaging in spelling duels after dinner. All the way up the stairs last night: “Dad, can you spell …. ?” “Tau, how do you spell …?” That boy has a near-photographic memory when it comes to spelling.
In the bathroom, the steam pouring over the top of the shower enclosure and filling the room as they go back and forth. I am holding Maceo, in just his diaper, until they get the temperature of the water right for him to join them.
“Hey, Dad — spell … BULLDOZER!” Hysterical … nay — maniacal! … laughter at his own supreme brilliance. “Try sound it out, Dad, but I don’t think you can spell it!”