oh my

Most afternoons when I am on pick up duty for the Tucson Grand-Angels, everything goes smoothly.  Oh, there may be the occasional complaint or spat between the two, but such a rare event.

rare  

adjective

(of an event, situation, or condition) not occurring very often.

Today, rare picked itself up, put on it’s shoes, and walked right out the door and disappeared without a trace.

After Abby’s swim team, we make our way to my house for some play time and dinner while daddy has meetings and mommy gets a well deserved pedicure.  I am busy in the kitchen area and I hear Abigail from her relaxed position on the sofa.

“Max, can you please get me a blanket and a pop up book and a cuddle toy because I went swimming and I have my pajamas on and I really really need to rest here.”

“no”

“Maaaa-ax.  But I am tired and I asked you nicely and you should do it if I ask you nicely.”

“no.  If I get you a blanket then I will have to fold it and put it back and I don’t feel like it.”

“But I will put the blanket back, I pwomise I really really will!”

Max gives in to the high-pitched whine from the little sister, and not only returns with the blanket; but brings TWO – count ’em 2 – pop up books and THREE cuddle toys for her to choose from.  Max is tired from a busy day at school and Pokemon discussion with some friends at Abby’s swim team practice.  He tosses a pillow on the big shaggy living room rug, and with a big exhale, commences to close his eyes and begin operation unwind.

Abby begins to “read” the spelled out numbers in one of the books … loudly … and punctuating each syllable.

Forty-Five.  Sixty-Three.  Fifty-seven.

Max is getting annoyed and then, reaching his breaking point … “ABBY!!  Please give me some quiet time for a few minutes. Read it in your mind.  You are not even reading it right!’

thirty-three.  seventy-nine.  Nana, am I reading it right?

“ABBY!  PLEASE just read it in your MIND!”

Well, you can surmise for yourself how Abby responded – or, didn’t.  Max was now near tears and broke down, marched into my bedroom and shut the door.  I gave him a few moments and went in just to check on him.  He had piled some pillows near my big craft cabinet, laid down on the pillows and open the large drawer above him to make a little sleeping berth.  I hugged him and asked if he needed anything and he dried his tears and said he just wanted to rest.  I left him to it and returned to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.  All the while Abby is still “reading” loudly, only stopping once to ask me what was wrong with Maxwell.  I had to leave the room to hide my laughter.

After dinner, I turn on the television to watch a Disney show with them, and on comes the ID channel where I had left it the night before.  As I start to change the channel Max holds up his hand  “Wait Nana!” On the screen it showed a hooligan family tormenting a grandpa next door with a dangerous growly dog and fireworks and loud music.  On commercial, I explained to the tiny Grand-Angels that they were just taunting him to be mean and that they should be more respectful.

ABBY:  “Nana, you might give me a time out for this, but I just have to say I would like to knock the shit out of those mean people.”

I am trying not to laugh while looking shocked and thought this would be a good time for a lesson.  No, Abby.  I am not giving you a time out, and then went on to explain that I do not like that language from my granddaughter.  And then to engage Max in my teaching moment, I asked Max what would be a better way to express that same feeling of anger.  He thought for just a split second, and replied …

“I am going to punch you right in the face!”

Turning to Abby to solidify my argument, apparently Max was not done with his thought on the matter.

“You Bastards!”

i give up.