Here goes an entry of questionable choice. From my journal dating back to May 1990:
We are back from the pool, sitting on our front porch. The kids--Asher, Rauly, Andrew, Angelo, Andrea and Alex--are playing, well experimenting with earwig bugs.
Angelo is holding onto me now.
He has been clingy these days, which is good I guess.
He says, "I love you dad." I love him too. And he tells me to write, "We went to the pool and had fun." All of us did have fun, even I went in.
Now the others are dissecting the bugs.
"I got the pinchers off!"
"Let's see the blood."
"Let's do this to ants next."
"Get it over and then go duush."
"Oh that's even sicker."
Then Alex said, "Where is the rolly-polly?" They (rolly-polly's) were on his protected species list...