I spent the evening last night studying for my test today. Kind of unusual, this notion of getting a test in grad. school. Kind of funny, too, if you think about filing into a big room, having to put everything under your desk, and busting out the engineering pencils to answer multiple-choice questions. Nothing funny about studying, though. That is, except for Lucy's take on it. We kind of forsaw the notion of "Daddy is studying" becoming this mysterious and kind of hated thing, so we wanted to defuse it as much as possible. At this time, studying means she can come over, sit in my lap, grab my pencil, and scribble all over whatever notes or book I have. "Lucy, are you studying?" "Daaaa!" (yes)
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