1. I still don't mind the rain. But when the sun briefly breaks through, we're inspired to take a short walk alongside the rainbow it has created.
2. The conversation at lunch: "Me: This rain reminds me of the Ray Bradbury story of the children living on Venus where the sun comes out for only two hours every seven years." "Audrey: Didn't he write Fahrenheit 451?" "Tess: What's significant about F. 451?" "A: Probably just some random number." "Steve: Nooo, it's the temperature at which paper will spontaneously combust." At this point I have a vision and I start laughing too hard to speak. I wipe the tears with my napkin and gasp for air. I finally recover enough to blurt, "The drummer in Spinal Tap spontaneously combusted!" And then I'm laughing all over again.
3. His "notes" today are on Rubrick's cube. He's been playing around with it for two weeks, creating a computer program with the cube laid out flat so he can manipulate it on the screen. ("You've got to be kidding me", was all I could say.) The rest of us have quickly tired of it. When he brings the cube to the lunch table, the kids teasingly remind him, "No toys at the table!"