I Am the Cuteness


Artwork by: "I Am the Walrus"...


...and the Eggman...


...and the, um, Hippo...


...and Pudgy Bunny...


...and this, um, "Bird"...


...featuring The BEATLES!

Today is Paul McCartney's 67th birthday. For those of you who don't know, Paul McCartney was the bass player and vocalist (one of four) for the Beatles. Rhiannon is a fan. A HUGE fan. Well, a tiny fan with big, big love for Sir Paul.

So today was kind of a national holiday (in the apartment, anyway). Rhiannon dressed in her knee-length tshirt-dress (the ladies out there will know the proper term for this garment), purple, screenprinted with large, pink polkadots, "The Beatles" in white letters (in their special font), and the Fab Four in silhouette. She then had movie day, with Magical Mystery Tour, Help, and Paul McCartney music videos playing in the background while she played with her Beatles dolls and drew Beatles drawings (some of which are pictured above).

When lunchtime rolled around, she made a point of avoiding meat. In fact, she enforced a strict, no-meat rule throughout the household. Today, everyone would go veggie. Throughout the day she snacked on carrots and olives, apples, a banana, yoghurt, peanut butter, bread, singing Beatles tunes all the while (she is not so familiar with Wings or McCartney's solo work -- for her, Sir Paul is forever 18).

For supper, I made basmati rice (her favorite) and grilled veggie kebabs (which she does not like) -- more healthy snacks for her then. Following dinner, we had cupcakes for dessert which Rhiannon and her mom made together while yours truly was slaving away in the home office, sneaking spoonfuls of chicken and sausage gumbo. Shh! Rhiannon will never be the wiser (until she reads this on her wedding day).

So the holiday draws to a close, but not before a little dialogue from earlier this evening. Rhiannon wanted to play "musical instruments" which means that we get out all of the percussion, the digiri doo, both guitars, the mandolin, and we take turns playing. Rhiannon has been sufficiently trained to not wail on the mandolin as it's a family heirloom, but she lightly strums it. She likes it because it is her size, and I have it tuned to a major chord so she can strum and sing along. As we begin, she looks at me. She's a little confused as to how to hold the instrument.

"DAD!"

"Yes, Rhiannon?"

"Is this way Paw-style?"

I think she is asking me if she is a south paw (lefty) or not.

"NO DAD! PAUL-STYLE!"

As in, is she holding the mandolin the way Sir Paul holds his Hofner bass. She's not, so she flips it around and strums that way. Rhiannon's right-handed, but it doesn't matter. For now she's in the biggest band that ever plugged in, and she's singing at the top of her lungs. "Help!"

Rhiannon. Cuter than Paul.

Andrew (Papa)