A garage in repair (barn, shed, whatever it goes by) holds a boy's attention.
I love the intensity with which Sira eats desserts.
Only a few more days of three at three. On day twenty three less than three twenty-fours, my three turn four.
Shhh, but the three no longer three are getting three of these (mini scooters for little dudes):
All in the golden afternoon
Full leisurely we glide;
For both our oars, with little skill,
By little arms are plied,
While little hands make vain pretence
Our wanderings to guide.
Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour
Beneath such dreamy weather,
To beg a tale of breath too weak
To stir the tiniest feather!
Yet what can one poor voice avail
Against three tongues together?
Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:
Thus slowly, one by one,
Its quaint events were hammered out—
And now the tale is done,
And home we steer, a merry crew,
Beneath the setting sun.
--Alice in Wonderland, The Introduction
(cut out of context to suit my context)