"That guy is very smart!"

When a repair person comes to call, there is a procedure that we go through at Project Bow. Before we discuss the matter at hand, before we show him the problem, before he ever sets foot inside any part of the inner sanctum that is the pen system, the newcomer has to say hi to Bow. They are introduced, through the grid of the outer door. Bow has to smell the person's breath and attempt to engage them in a game of jumping up and down or chase. Only after this preliminary step may we go deeper into the pens and attend to the problem.

It's just a matter of personal courtesy, of etiquette. This is Bow's home. You don't go into someone's home and look all around and make comments about them and ignore the fact that they are there. You would not like it if someone did this to you, and Bow feels the same way.

Last week, it was plumbers. Bow's big toilet stopped flushing, and it took a team of two plumbers to figure out that it was the batteries that needed changing, and where the batteries were, and how to remove them. I introduced the first plumber to Bow, and all was well, but unfortunately nobody told me there was going to be second plumber.  I left to run errands while Lawrence watched Bow, and when I returned, and I was putting groceries away, I heard Bow screaming.

I went to see what was the matter. Bow was screaming at the second plumber, a chubby fellow we'd never seen before. Later, I asked Bow why screamed at the new plumber. He spelled: "He was bad."

"How do you know he was bad?"

"He asked why you have a chimpanzee. He's a bad man."

So this week, I stayed while the locksmith was here to estimate how much it would cost to replace our current locks with prison grade security locks. Bow is getting bigger, and our locks now seem flimsy, compared to his strength. The locksmith was very open minded, and he talked with Bow for some time, before going in. He even played chase. He said that Bow was obviously very intelligent, and the current locks were no match for Bow's strength. The new locks would not only be stronger, they would be "pick proof", which is good because Bow might one day decide to pick the lock, and he's certainly bright enough to do so.

After the locksmith left, Bow told me: "That guy is very smart!"

"It tastes like cat."

One of my friends who read yesterday's blog entry commented that it was a sign of successful parenting that Bow helped enforce the rule of serving one item at a time during meals. I had to agree and was feeling quite pleased. However, Bow is  not unaware of what is going on with this blog. I read him every entry out loud, and I think he must have felt it was time to let me know he wasn't quite that obedient. He still wants to see what he can get away with, as far as wastefulness is concerned.

This summer, Wednesday is going to be my "free day", thanks to Megan and Lawrence. The way it works is that I get up at 6:30 and help Bow in the morning, including breakfast and potty duties. At 9:00 am Megan comes in and takes over. At noon, Lawrence relieves Megan, and he does lunch with Bow and stays until 2:00. At 2:00 pm Megan relieves Lawrence, and she stays until  5:00 pm, when I come back, and Sword and Bow and I have supper together as a family. I still put Bow to bed sometime after 7:00 pm, usually around 7:30. So, even on  my "free day", I am with Bow about five hours all told. Still it's much less than my usual twelve hours. During the year, I don't have a "free day", but it's really a nice thing to have, and I think Bow enjoys the variety of companionship, too.

Anyway, I don't know whether it is due to my blog post about waste or not, but yesterday it seems that Bow decided to play finicky with Lawrence at lunch. I wasn't there to hear about it from Lawrence, but he left me a note:

LUNCH JUNE 9, 2010 (with Lawrence)

* I gave Bow a second apple which was green. He asked for it as usual, but one bite and he told me: "I don't like this apple." I asked"Why?" He said: "It tastes funny." I went and got him another apple, and he ate it.

*   I gave Bow a small portion of my ravioli on his table. He asked: "What is that?" I told him, he asked for it, took one bite and rejected it. He said:"I don't like it." I asked:"Why not?" He said: "It tastes like cat." I asked: "Did you ever eat cat?" He said "No."

Funny, the stuff that goes one when I'm not around!