H, going to the bathroom day before yesterday, you got sad.

You asked mom and me to follow you in while you went.

We were all talking about something and suddenly, your voice got sad.

In a mournful tone, you told us:

Owazy is not real. I was lying.

We were so shocked!

Then we tried to convince you that there was a difference between lying and telling a story of fiction.

I started to tell you that we knew Owazy and Grass were not real, but mom stopped me before I could ruin the magic.

I said to you later:

No matter how much of your Owazy and Grass tales are real, or just for fun, I hope you tell me stories about them for a long, long, time.

I love you.

-Dad

H, we have taken to being artistic every now and then.

And I simply love it.

Last night after K was asleep – while we should have all been getting ready for bed – you, me, and mom got the paper and the markers out.

We drew for a good 30 minutes at the kitchen table.

As mom worked diligently making a girl in a dress, I drew a cross.

You watched me intently and started drawing too.

These are our crosses.

I love you.

-Dad