I live in the Kool-aid house. I don't think I exaggerate when I say every child in the neighborhood congregates here. Since Valentine and Viagra were very young children, the munchkin lobby has always voted to play at the guillotine. While we have a younger group now, the consensus remains that our house is the best place for children to group together and spend their free time.
I'd love to say this baffles me, but the sad truth is the kiddies hang with me because I'm always reading a book. People involved in a book do not question outlandish ideas for children's free time, since we pay scant attention to the actual question assuming it does not involve matches. We are more concerned with finishing this next chapter. In this climate, chances are always better that even the nuttiest of requests will be granted with a vague wave and "sure, sure" tacked on.
I'm the "fine, whatever" Mom.
"May we build a tent city of blankets from the front door to the kitchen island?"
"May we dress up in all of your clothing and have a picnic in the tent city?"
"Can we use the chine tea set?"
"Can we make blue pasta just for fun?"
"How about an exploding volcano?"
"Can we put tape on the bottom of the cat's paws and watch it freak out?"
"Can we use all the aluminum foil to make a knight suit and fight with cardboard swords in the middle of the living room?"
All this is a "fine, whatever" moment and what kid in their right mind wouldn't want to spend their summer here? They can destroy the house and the pets, yet as long as they leave me to my reading, they have absolutely nothing to worry about unless the tent city encroaches on my reading light.
Okay, I did pull my nose outta the book to nix the play re-enacting the story of the garden of Eden. I was "fine, whatever" until Vision announced there was no need for costumes, because Adam and Eve were naked!!! I envisioned CPS showing up on the front porch just as all the neighborhood kiddies were frolicking naked in my living room eating apples. Even I have my limits.
Speaking of limits, the younger generation of monsters, Vision and Willard's friends, have spent the entire summer showing up with their 4 and 5 year-old siblings. I have no children this age, so how did I inherit these kiddies? There is an entire playgroup of munchkins, living in my house, who aren't even my kid's friends.
Despite all this, one of the alien munchkins is starting to grow on me. She wanted some "gwaypes" and could "someone put them in a bowl!!!" her first foray here. On the second run, we had no gwaypes, but she enthusiastically cheered when she requested bwead and found I had it. Bread. What's not to love about the cheerful reception of bread? Am I the snack queen or what?
After much consulting between the 4 year-old crowd, it was determined that peanut butter was needed to go with my most excellent bwead and I was dutifully promised that they would be "vewy, vewy, careful" not to spill. What, bwead crumbs? Someone with small children actually takes time out of their day to fret about sandwich remnants lying about the house?
The same little cherub consulted with me last week about the availability of "souwwa candy" in our house. I had 4 sticks of hard candy in my desk, opened the drawer, pulled the green apple and watermelon sticks out, explained what they would taste like, and while she took them she eyed the other two in a greedy manner. I pointed out, while holding up the butterscotch, that it was not very souwwa, but she just smiled and snatched into her stash.
She then eyed the tangerine still lying in the drawer, blinked at me twice with her solemn baby-blues, and reached right in to take that one as well without even asking the flavor. She stared at the drawer for a few more seconds, but since no other candy materialized, she flashed me a large grin and trotted off to share the bounty with all the other intruders. I couldn't help but think some poor little boy, right now obliviously playing with trucks and legos, is so completely doomed when he meets this kid.
She thinks everything, gwaypes to bwead, up to and including gummy worms, needs to be placed in a bowl. I have NO idea why. Perhaps the bowl has special qualities, enabling it to repel germs and grit after munchkins stomp repeatedly over the gummy worms in their shoes and then eat them anyway.
I think I speak for all Americans when I say gummy worms can be safely eaten in the plastic sack, under or out of the tent city. Bwead too. Anyone who thinks anything given to a small child will not be grimed up and most likely stepped on, before they finish eating it, has been putting things in bowls and hoping for the best.
I speak for myself when I say if you don't want me to give your children ideas regarding the proper etiquette of gwaypes and bwead while living in the tent city, stop sending them over here. Fine. Whatever.
West and wewaxation at wast! Maw GWAYPES!
Is this little one from Lawn Gyland?
LOL
Posted by: Pamela | August 05, 2004 at 05:16 PM