Three memories

We've been sorting through old papers recently, and I found this drawing by my daughter in the garbage can. I can't keep it forever, but it's worth posting and remembering. Yesterday we went up to the U.S. embassy to submit applications to renew our childrens' passports, and I had good conversation with her. She reminded me of a time -- early in our stay here -- when we heard a baby crying fitfully for some indeterminable reason.

Apparently, I'd made some comment about how the baby sounded constipated -- alternating fussiness with alarming screams. She thought was super funny at the time, she said, and giggled all that afternoon as she imagined someone having a very difficult time on a toilet.

We also talked about a project she is doing in social studies class on Buddhism. I asked if she needed any pictures of temples, but she said no -- that she already had too many. I joked that it would be funny to go around taking selfies in temples, and then doing the report on how fashionable she looked.

I have this mock-conceited voice that I like to use in those situations, and I'll say things like, "Here I am at this one temple, and --- oh my gosh -- check out how good my hair looks." Or "I'm not actually better than anyone else; I'm just saying this so everyone knows how to act around me."

Nothing particularly important, but these memories are precious to me, and I write them here so I don't ever forget them.