A few months ago, Lucy and Kathleen moved into the same room. Sure, it makes for a concentrated mess with Kathleen’s taekwondo outfit mixing with Lucy’s gymnastics stuff on the floor. But In general this has had a remarkably positive influence on the girls’ ability to sleep through the night without sneaking into bed with their parents.
Tonight, however, Lucy is struggling. She has emerged multiple times on the verge of tears saying she wants to sleep with one of us.
“I just feel really lonely,” she sobs.
“But you’re with Kathleen,” Jennifer says, “so why would you feel lonely?”
“Well,” Lucy replies, her face scrunching up to hold back tears, “Kathleen is only a half-yellow-belt. So I don’t really feel fully protected.”
For some reason I don’t think her mother and me cracking up made her feel better.
Over the weekend, Kathleen had a Girl Scout’s event in the early afternoon before Lucy’s Birthday Party. To make the schedule easier we asked one of the Girl Scout leaders (whose daughter was also coming to the party) to bring Kathleen. They got stuck in traffic making their way across town. This is the conversation in the car as it was related to me.
Kathleen: “Come on! Come on! We need to make it to the party. We are going to be late! Can’t you drive faster?”
Girl Scout leader: “Kathleen, calm down. We will just be a little late.”
Kathleen: “But … but, they might start eating the cake!”
Girl Scout leader: “Are you worried about missing your sister’s party, or about missing the cake?”
Kathleen (sarcastic): “Um … THE CAKE!”
Girl Scout leader: “Kathleen! If you are going to be worried it should be because it’s your sister’s party. Silly girl. There is plenty of cake, and your family is going to take what doesn’t get eaten home after the party. There will be leftovers.”
Kathleen: “Clearly you don’t know my family.”
For the record, there WERE leftovers!
I’ll let you in on a secret.
Kathleen insists that she only likes fat free hotdogs. But actually she likes any kind of hotdog you give her if she thinks it is a fat free hotdog.
Whatever you do, don’t tell her!
Quin, a little boy from down the street, was over playing in the front yard with the gaggle of neighborhood kids that always gather at our house when the girls are here and available.
At one point (probably intending to solicit fruit snacks), he came inside, looked around, and asked: “Why do you all live in such a messy house?”
He is young, and unaware of social conventions, so I decided to let him live.
But he didn’t get any fruit snacks.
Kathleen: “What are we having for dinner?”
Me: “I have to take Lucy to gymnastics, so I think you and mom are working that out.”
Kathleen: “Awwwww! Mom always picks healthy stuff.”
I don’t think that I appreciate the implication here.
Kathleen has a crush on a boy in her class who is originally from Ireland.
While I was at the St. Patrick’s Day party at her school today, the boy came over and told me where he was from.
I got very excited and asked if he was a leprechaun. I then proceeded to say that he would have to give me three wishes.
Kathleen interrupted our conversation and apologized for me!
The first of many times I suspect.
Jacob, a neighborhood kid, just told me that despite popular opinion, the thumb is not really a finger.
I responded that while there is a strong argument for that claim, the position is still opposable.
He just looked at me like I am crazy.