Apparently, Crayola Crayons don't survive 100 degree days.

Apparently, Crayola Crayons don’t survive 100 degree days.


(front door opening)

Molly: Mama?

Hank: Mama?

Pai: We’re home.

Me: (slow disco sway) Reunited and it feels so good!

Molly: Mama!

(Hank, Molly and I collapsing into a cuddle pile)

Pai: How did it go?

Me: Complete shit show, sorry Hank.

Hank: You had hospital exams again?

Me: Yup. Successful blood draw, but then the rest of the day was destroyed by pain. There were no chairs and an hour waiting on my feet.

Hank: There has got to be a better way.

Pai: We are investigating.

Hank: Molly, get up, Muggy. Mama’s hurting.

Me: (grabbing him back into the cuddle pile) Nope. We never focus on pain when we are in a cuddle pile! Cuddle piles are medicinal.

Molly: (grinning in full cuddle pike bliss)

Pai: It’s so hot in this apartment. Let’s relocate the cuddle pile to the veranda where it is fresh and I have great news.

Hank: (bouncing up)

Molly: (toddling up)

Me: (getting up with the grace of a newborn giraffe)

Pai: Wow. (holding a piece of paper)

Me: What?

Pai: Maybe, we should do the egg cracking experiment on the veranda. It is so hot today Molly’s crayons melted.

Me: YO!

Hank: Wow.

Molly: Da da (that’s my art!)

Me: Cool, we have to keep this. I am sad for the crayon, but it was a honorable death.

Pai: So, my news.

Hank: What is it, papa?

Pai: Do you think you will be well enough to walk into town this evening, Joy?

Me: Perdido por 100 perdido por 1000. (Lost by 100 lost by 1000).** Why?

Pai: We need to celebrate! Our Hank pulled his Portuguese grade up to a Bom (equivalent of letter grade B in the US).

Hank: What?!

Me: Oh Hank, I am so proud of you. Well done, buddy!

Pai: You did that work all on your own. I am very proud of you. It was your choice to raise your grade. This calls for after dinner ice cream. (giving Hank a hug)

Hank: Yea!!

Molly: Yah! (clapping, hugging her brother, clueless as to why but happy to be happy)

Pai: (handing over his grades) You also did very well in Robotics and your professor had very kind words to say about you. And English you are top of the class.

Me: (sarcastic) Shocking.

Hank: I don’t even need English class, really.

Pai: Oh yes, you do. Don’t expect to learning spelling from your mother. Her brain works in unique and mysterious ways. (grinning at me)

Me: True Story.

Hank: Então, se eu passar de terceira classe? (So, did I pass third grade?)

Me: (positively purple with laughter, hugging him)

Pai: Hank, of course you did! You earned two MB (A), four BO (B) and a SF (C). (super sarcastic) No, you have to stay in third grade. (handing over his grades)

Hank: So, I just have to work on improving Math next year. I can do that and I can study this summer. (deep breath) I am proud of myself.

Me: We knew you could do it. I am proud you made the choice, yourself, to improve.

Hank: This feels great. Mama, can we eat early so we can get ice cream early?

Pai: Sounds good to me, I skipped lunch.

Me: Hank, you get the talheres (silverwear). Alfredo, help me with the soup. Ms. Molly MaGoo, are you hungry.

Molly: (squatting by a veranda pot, mouth full of dirt, waving) Olá! (hello)

Hank: (laughing) I guess she’s hungry.

Me: Amália Sofia Hanford Pereira!! No!


** The expression, “perdido por 100 perdido por 1000,” (lost by 100 lost by 1000) is one of my favorite in portuguese.  It means basically: “I’ve already lost what does it matter if I lose more.”  It is something a criminal would say when being questioned by police or you would say taking your third piece of cake.