Wednesday, April 22, 2015

The mystery sibling

The other night, Chip and I were trying to have a quick chat while I made dinner and he prepared to head out for the evening. We were on the deck, and the kids were playing in the yard. But not happily.

"Daddy, pleeeeeeease come and play with us," they pleaded.

"Guys, you're fine." he responded. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes, and mommy and I need to talk."

"But we are so booooored!" shouted Charlie.

"Play together," he said. "That's why we had another kid."

Charlie* looked up, startled, and said, "Where is he?"

"You, buddy. You're the other kid," Chip responded. "Now play with your sister."

*The look on his face. I wish you could have seen it. Priceless.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

She has my number

Despite the fact that Mary Clare has to wear a uniform to school, she actually has a lot of options when it comes down to the various components. Red or white shirt, long sleeve or short sleeve, solid red, navy or white cardigans, sweaters and sweatshirts, fleeces and half-zip pullovers with the school logo are allowed with either her jumper or solid navy bottoms. Last year when she started at Holy Redeemer, I had all of the options for her, including navy shorts and navy pants, which she absolutely refused to wear. She carried this refusal straight through the first semester of Kindergarten as well.

Now it is spring, and it's possible that she is getting a little sick of her jumper. With that in mind, last week I floated the idea of wearing a pair of her shorts to school. Daring, I know. She jumped at the chance. Loved it. Thought it was the greatest day ever. Couldn't get enough of the matching plaid belt with the heart buckle.

The next day she wanted to wear shorts again. Now, she has two pairs of shorts, but she had already signed off on the clothes I laid out for her the night before, it was early in the morning, I was tired and I did not feel like looking for the other pair of shorts. 

So I lied.

"Mary Clare, can you please just wear your jumper?" I asked, in what I'm certain was a somewhat whiny tone.

"But why?" she demanded. "I really want to wear shorts. I can run more in shorts."

"Well, you only have that one pair of shorts, and they are in the wash," I responded.

"Well," she harrumphed, as she eyed me up and down. "I find that very hard to believe."