Kielbasa is Salami

Kielbasa is Salami, at least according to Seamus.  He has insisted thus since he was able to pronounce the two words, about six months ago.  (He says tillbasa and sayami, but we know what he is talking about.)  How many times have we patiently explained that kielbasa is a type of sausage, and salami is a type of sausage, but kielbasa is not salami.  Too many to count.  But he steadfastly maintains that kielbasa is salami.  Why does he have so many opportunities to do so?  Because salami is one of our major food groups, and the first resort when we are too harried to cook anything.  The salami and cheese dinner is a repast of both familiarity and great appeal, particularly for Booker.  And kielbasa is a basic ingredient of Mary's famous beans.  But Seamus often demands to have it plain, as well.  

Whenever he does so, he repeats to himself and anyone in earshot, kielbasa is salami.  It seems to be a kind of brainworm that has nestled itself in his memory so deeply it is impervious to correction.  It disappeared for a while until Mary pulled some out of the fridge the other day for another batch of beans.  Seamus, eagerly anticipating the debate to come, asked, "Mommy, is kielbasa salami?"  She just stood there with her hands on her hips, shaking with silent laughter, finally saying, "Seamus, are we really going to go through that again?"  To which he replied. "Is!  Is, Mommy!  Kielbasa is salami!"

The major event of the week was the arrival of Carol, our new au pair, who is one smart cookie.  She immediately won Booker over by offering to sew a shirt for his stuffed Snoopy, with his design assistance.  Here they are in the photos, working on their creation, a cute little nehru jacket with a single button.  Snoopy will soon be the best dressed member of the household.

Speaking of dogs, Booker was christened with his capoeira name this past Saturday - his teacher only calls her students by their capoeira name in class, so this was an urgent requirement.  She asked his advice, and he had a single but difficult requirement: he wanted to be "an animal that saves."  Confined to this fairly small pool, she opted for a choice that suits him perfectly: Labrador.  (Spelled the same but sounds better in Portuguese.)

And all else continues to roll along as before.  Every day is a saga of tears and elations, every night is too short and punctuated by someone crying, and kielbasa is still salami.