She holds the spoon

Today, I took Miru out for a walk through the park and the few blocks I wanted to discover today. She strolled casually next to me on the sidewalk (and less casually when we went downhill). The part of Lisbon we explored is made for cars, and so I had the opportunity to teach her the word green while waiting for the traffic lights. The gently sloping streets are lined with tall buildings, some blend a historic façade nicely with modern highrise architecture. There are many small stores, cobblestones, drivers trying to park their cars in tiny spots, students sipping their coffee, seniors chatting in front of their houses – there is life.

I went into a coffee bar and order a bica (espresso), pastry, and leek soup.
“Hot!” I tell Miru as she takes the soup spoon.
-“Hot, hot” she replies while blowing at the spoon. The soup was viscous enough, so it stayed on the spoon. She started eating and I took out my notebook, feeling ferociously happy. The pastry is not bad (and I was lucky Miru left it all for me). She had eaten just a few spoonfuls of soup and seemed distracted, so I tried to take her spoon.
“Nee!” That is not the way the world works, daddy. I hold the spoon. Ask nicely. I leaned back and opened my mouth – and she started spooning soup and putting it into my mouth. I finished my notes (I want to write something authentic about the tragedy in Lampedusa and the outcry that it caused, I have an idea about a story in Lisbon about imaginary shadows) and we continue. I put her on my back with the help of a kind bystander, and walked home.

Sometimes, it is meaningful to share a story for no apparent reason.

Back home, Miru was exhausted; I wanted to see if there are useful web sites for toddler education but what I found was littered with advertisements. All I wanted was a series of simple picture of simple everyday things she can browse together with her parents. So I put together a very basic thing that you can find here. At least it doesn’t try to turn our children into product placement potential.

It’s very late, again, and I am on my way to bed. Miru is doing what she can to educate me, but it seems daddy has been a bit stubborn and works way beyond midnight on his computer. He is happy behind his screens, but we need him. This goes out all parent’s who read this and recognize these early symptoms of addiction. Take care. Until next time.