Punching

The other night, while I was in the throes of job decisions, Margaret decided that it would be a good plan to have an open house at her school so that she could show me all of her favorite works.

One of the things that she loves is punching, in which a piece of paper with an outline traced on it (in this case countries in South America, because she's making a map) is placed on a carpet square, and then she pushes a push-pin into it over and over and over making her own perforations so that she can tear it out.  Once she has done all the countries, she will paste them together as a map of South America.  She's already done the world and North America.  I shudder to think what Europe is going to be like.  Can you even punch Andorra?

Anyway, she was very focused on it, but also on explaining the process to me, so that was fun.  She even let me make a few punches, and complimented me on how quickly I had gotten the knack of it.

Sometimes I think that my daughter is a mite condescending.

And then she went and fed me kale chips that she wouldn't have touched at all on her own, but she thought would be delicious for me.

The generosity of youth never ceases to amaze me.