Apparently, Hokusai is Japanese for, “Are you serious?”

Today started with sadness and pride.

JP family mourns loss of beloved “Buddha Baby” after mysterious fall results in skull fracture. The ceremony was small but meaningful.

Train tunnel made out of Magna-Tiles. Mensa, you have my number.

After the Buddha Baby service and the long process of getting George to put on non-pajama clothes, the plan was to go see the Hokusai exhibit at the MFA, you know, something I wanted to do. But then the universe reminded me, it’s not about what I want to do. We drove 20 minutes, pulled into a very expensive parking lot, and then Hazy said, “I can’t find my sandals!” After Matty carried her to bed last night, we’d assumed he’d left her sandals in the car. We were wrong.

Plan B: drive to the nearest shoe store. Wasn’t sure if the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule would apply at a shoe store, but I carried my big girl four blocks while holding George’s hand, and then we hit the jackpot: flip flops for both kids; sport sandals for Hazy, and the piece de resistance, my new Christian Siriano for Payless “Kate” pumps. Those shoes are museum-worthy, plus the parking was free. Oh, and I got some headbands. You know, impulse buy.

Guess which pair of shoes is wildly impractical?

Also, I made the kids run around the entire store in each pair they tried on, mainly because it was so cute. — Also, I made the kids run around the entire store in each pair they tried on to test the comfort and fit, but also because, come on!

On the walk, George terrorized several people with his lack of driving skills, and then drove the car partially onto the busy street.

Some nice, but foolish, Radio Shack employee gave George the remote. Sorry, people of Mattapan.

I always wanted to go to this ice cream and hot dog place, Simco, mostly because of its cool retro sign.

Photo tip: "No ice cream unless you smile!" — Photo tip: “No ice cream unless you smile!”

I noticed I'm making this face a lot. I think it's because I assume the bigger my smile, the more likely the kids will smile. — I noticed I’m making this face a lot. I think it’s because I assume the bigger my smile, the more likely the kids will smile. George only has eyes for ice cream though.

Ice cream and trains. We ate our ice cream overlooking the rails, and George's day was made when the "purple train" went by. — Ice cream and trains. We ate our ice cream overlooking the rails, and George’s day was made when the “purple train” went by.

As I strapped him into his car seat, George said, “You know what’s fun?” “What?” “You’re fun.” Oh George, you’re killing me, smalls.

During George’s nap, Hazy tried our some of our Michael’s purchases and did her first acrylic on canvas painting.

The artist at work — Head/rest of things not too scale

I know everyone thinks their kids are cute, but oh my god, this kid is cute. — I know everyone thinks their kids are cute, but oh my god, admit that this kid is cute. Just admit it.

Then we picked up the man, the myth, the legend — Dada! Now that they spend every weekday with me, Matty has attained new status.

And then we hit the Children’s Museum, or as I like to call it, The Hall of Germs. Bubbles were made, TV stars were born, and Buster was intimidated by a sassy six-year old. The caterpillar lady was reluctant to let the kids hold the caterpillar, because she correctly assumed they’re klutzes. She kept saying, “Don’t drop him!” Then, she was showing me something about him, and dropped him! Oh, caterpillar lady.

Speaking of caterpillars, I’m a little obsessed with them now. There are so many beautiful varieties, they can camouflage (took me three times to spell that correctly) themselves so well, and they’re just so cool. I mean, hello? The very hungry caterpillar – SPOILER ALERT – ate a bunch of fruit, a cake, a sausage, and cheese, and then the dude became a butterfly!

Why am I still making this stupid face? I don't know. #caterpillarselfie — Why am I still making this stupid face? I don’t know. #caterpillarselfie Note to self: maybe start wearing some make up, hon

One of these kids is doing his own thing and that thing is being over the age of 12. (Matty playing the giant dance floor game with ten kids.)

All in all, a good day. Final one-on-one minutes: Hazy, 11; George, 0 (due to the Throwing-A-Train-at-Hazy’s-Head Incident); although Matty is a softie and still read him a book before bed.

Local friends: What is your favorite MA or NH beach?