Claire climbed the entire play structure at the Precita playground, alone, just so she could slide down the big slide. She is fearless. In order to conserve the equilibrium of the universe, I have been equipped with extra fears. Cian, too, is facing existential crises daily. He got very tired in the swing and started chanting:

“I want… I want… I want… I want…”

We guessed water, juice, hugs, something to eat: all wrong. Then we realized what he was trying to say:

“I want! I want! I want! I want!”

Yearning for something impossible to articulate, aged two. It’s hard to be Cian sometimes.

Later we swung by Emeryville for the weekend’s third barbecue. Salome and I raided Toys R Us and brought home a sandbox in the shape of a tree stump. This made Claire squeal for joy. Leslie and Neil turned up, and the neighbors Lyndell and Katya brought their baby Zarina over to play with Claire. Chickens clucked, corn cooked, beer was drank.

Eventually we all piled into the house for the West Coast premiere of The Curse of the *****. Despite a certain hamminess in one key performance, it’s a wicked film, spooky and pretty and funny. Reminded me a lot of the early Peter Jackson.

Claire fell asleep on the way home, so naturally she woke at midnight and wanted to play with her Daddy until 3am.

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