Reader, I married him

SCENE: The children's department  at the Monroe County Public Library
Henry is working a puzzle, something he has quite recently become good at. A somewhat bigger little boy, red-haired, comes up and looks at Henry's work. "That puzzle over there is a lot harder," he says casually, indicating the other side of the table. "But I can do it. I've memorized it." He proceeds to sit down and work on the harder puzzle, encountering unforeseen difficulty in putting it together after all. As he struggles, a grown man looking on--a man fully 10 times as old as the red-headed child--is simply unable to contain himself. "Hey," he says, accusingly. "I thought you said you memorized it!"
Now, I'm not naming names here. If you were to guess that Henry's father is the man in question, I could only say: You might very well think that. I couldn't possibly comment.

Today, I've been...
Reading: This excellent series in Slate about what grief is like. Also, Illness as Metaphor, which I'm finding disappointing, I'm not sure why.
Eating: Ice cream AND chocolate, as soon as Henry was safely in the bathtub. Oh, the secret lives of grown-ups!
Enjoying: Hearing Henry say "Charles Darwin," the name of Mom & Virginia's beagle. It makes me appreciate the amusement Mom must have derived from teaching me to play Authors as a preschooler, and hearing me issue my lisping requests for "Charge of the Light Brigade, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson."
Not enjoying as much as I used to: Boilerplate British costume dramas. Boo. I hate it when cheap fun isn't fun anymore.