The Meaning of Thanksgiving

The Gremlin, the Pickle, and their mother were driving to ‘Lego Mania’ at the library today when the Pickle noticed something odd about the weekday.

“Momma why Gremlin no school?”

“Oh, Pickle, it’s Thanksgiving break. He doesn’t have school today.”

“Ok, Gremlin school Thursday, ok?” The Mother of the Pickle thought this was very odd, not only due to the Pickle’s use of “Thursday” so specifically.

“Well, no, Thursday is Thanksgiving.”

“No! No thanks! Art class! Pippy art class, Gremlin school!” After the Pickle responded to his mother, the Gremlin perked up at this. If art class was so much fun, he had to try!

“I want to go to art class!” After the Gremlin said this, the Pickle became very upset.

“No! Teacher Annie say no!”

“Pickle, Thanksgiving is the day we celebrate the thinks we are thankful for – or the things we really like.”

“Pippy thankful art class, without Gremlin!” The MOTP frantically came up with something to try and distract both children.

“But Thanksgiving is when we eat turkey!”

“Oh, turkey! Gobble gobble! I Martin turkey, the wild turkey! Gobble gobble!”

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Mave Strikes Back!

It’s Friday, and in the Gremlin’s world, that means Art Class! Today, our little darling made a snake, a map, and several other things that the Gremlin “hasn’t decided what they are yet.”

The specific Art Class put on at this city of Chicago public park (and as we’re signing up for it again next week, I’m not posting the name, just in case) frequently has several ‘stations’ all around the room for different activities.

It so happened that Mave finally returned to the class (she had not shown since the unfortunate Name Spelling Incident) and was happily painting at the same table as the Gremlin. We assume this was due to her perfect attendance record at her preschool that her mother was raving about.

It was discovered during this class time that Mave herself is in preschool at this time (coming up on the completion of the school year). Well, she felt the urge again to display her spelling prowess and confessed to the table in a hushed voice as she painted,

I know how to spell my name.” Everyone at the table – Mave and the Gremlin included – continued to paint, each child filling their paper with mast strokes before claiming new sheets to instill with color and flavor.

“I know how to spell my name.” Mave spoke louder this time, allowing her voice to carry over the entire table as the students continued their education in color. The Gremlin let a beat go by before responding:

“I’m smarter than you.” Mave didn’t look up either as she responded.

“Yeah…”

It was at this point the MOTG realized that we should probably stop discussing his blog in front of him, the Gremlin delivering a perfectly timed (and perfectly egotistical) comedic line. Mave was undeterred, as was everyone else at the table. And nobody at the table even stopped painting…

Art and Literacy

Every week the Gremlin participates in a class for the Chicago Park District. This time around he is taking an art class which he talks about all week. It is a multi-media class, and he frequently does painting, clay, and beading all in one day.

Last week he had just finished his clay sculpturing, washed off, and sat down to paint when he keyed into a conversation one of the mothers was having with the rest of the table.

“My little Mave is just so advanced! She’s already learning her alphabet and can write her name.” The mother pulled out a clean sheet of paper and dipped her daughter’s brush into the paint. “Here you go Mave. Write your name! Remember? Just like we practiced!”

The mother started the M and the girl picked up on it. She scrawled out a rough approximation of M-A-V-E with an extra loop on the A and a few extra dashes on the E. The Gremlin took a sideways glance at the signature.

“That’s not an A,” the Gremlin stated. Mave looked over at him.

“Yes it is.”

“No, this is an A.” With a flourish, he reached across the painting, and marked a perfect A underneath the swirly &-type sign. “And, that’s not an E.” The rapport repeated with Mave disagreeing and the Gremlin again dipping his paintbrush and putting the correct number of horizontal dashes to the E.

He returned to his own painting for a moment.

“This is how you spell my name.” The parents at the table looked over to see A-L-E-X printed out in the corner of the page. “Okay, momma, I’m ready for a new paper.” And he went on with his painting. The other mother was silent for the rest of the class period.