Your Mom wasn’t feeling very well this week, so we took you to our workplace in Portsmouth two days in a row.

There was also lots of chatterbox chatting along the way, including the following Jack-isms:

Do you want to go to work with Grammy?

Yes, but how am I gonna get back?

 

Grammy, do you think we could go to Old McDonald’s?  I think we could have a  very nice lunch there.

 

Boy, you’re smart Jack.

I am smart. I got that from my teachers.

 

Do you know why I don’t like church?  Because they talk and it’s boring. I don’t really sing, I just listen.

Once at the office, you took turns going back and forth between mine and Grammy’s. When it was my turn, I showed – and taught you – the things I had shown your brother and sisters when they were younger and used to visit.

You learned how to take the weathervane fish apart and put it back together.  You played with the Beatles Magical Mystery Tour bus and I showed you how to pop the Beatles out of the Yellow Submarine while the song played (you hadn’t heard it before, shame on me). You rang the big brass bell.

We watched boats and birds glide by on the Piscataqua.  I taught  you how to ring the Japanese gong.  You loved the see-through plastic ball with the map of the earth and revealed a fascination for Earth and the planets.

When it was time for lunch, we took you to “Old McDonald’s” and bought you a new baseball cap (the Red Sox just started the new season, hooray!).

Here’s the picture you drew for me (you also drew one for Grammy).  When I asked what it was, you looked at me and quickly blurted out (as if a bit disappointed I actually needed to ask the question):

“It’s me at the beach!!!!”