Saturday, February 4, 2012

When Dad cracks up, it's all over.

We're weekending with my parents while Hubby is away on a winter retreat with the youth group kids.  I figured it would accomplish two things:  One, it would alleviate some of the anxiety of missing Daddy.  Two, I would not have to single-mom it.

And, conveniently, it would also refill the Grandie Time banks that my parents seem to have.  Which, my mother had indicated, were pitifully low when I emailed to ask if we might barge in for the weekend.

Mom and Dad had a surprise birthday party for a friend of theirs this afternoon, and they took off for that as the kids and I were finishing lunch.  Given Large Fry's spectacular meltdown at the beginning of lunch (over being asked, of all the horrible duties, to put a napkin at each place), I insisted that all three Fries would take a nap.  Large is old enough that she doesn't usually have to nap on Saturdays.

Besides, I wanted a nap, too.  (Which I didn't really get.)


My folks came home, declared their friend completely agog with surprise over her party, and Dad tried to get some work done...until he decided that the fat flakes of snow falling outside and the general dreariness as a result equaled naptime for him, not work time.

After the Fries woke up, and after pretty much failing to keep the Fries quiet-ish while Boppa napped on the couch, he relocated to his recliner and snuggled under his fleecy leaf blanket (a Christmas gift from the Fries).  He closed his eyes and settled in.

About this time, Large had discovered a new game, which had the effect of irritating Medium.  This seemed to be the desired goal, as Large half-skipped loops around the kitchen/dining/living room, chanting, "I can't see Meeeedeeeyum!"  Ad nauseum.

This reduced Medium to tears after the fifth such utterance, causing her to wail piteously, "Yes, you can!  I'm wright hewre!"  More tears.  More Large "not seeing" Medium.  "Yes, you can, Lawrge!  You can see me!"

Intervention was clearly necessary.  I called Medium over while Large was still lapping.  "Medium," I said gently, "she's just pretending.  It's okay."

Medium, in a small pout, nodded...but her face wrinkled in advance of tears when Large cheerily shouted, "I can't see Medium!" on another lap around the room.

Intervention #2.  "Large, come here," I commanded.

Large bopped over in front of me.

"You have to stop saying that about your sister.  You're upsetting Medium, and you're doing it on purpose, and I don't like it.  Stop saying that.  Understand?"

Large nodded, and bounced away.

She careened into the kitchen, and began, "I can't see..."

"LARGE!"  I injected every bit of sternness and I Will Be Obeyed into my voice that I could.  "I told you to not say that anymore!"

"No, I...I...I...I was saying...I...was saying I couldn't see..." her eyes lit up as she hit on an idea, "...the computer!  I couldn't see the computer!"

Dad, reclined with his eyes closed and blanket up to his chin, couldn't keep his lips from curving and poorly muffled a guffaw.

I lasered Large with a gimlet eye.

"The computer!" she insisted.

Dad's lips twitched, there was another audible, poorly-muffled guffaw, and he pulled the blanket up over his mouth.

I wasn't able to stop my own chuckled snort.  "You're not helping," I said to Dad.

You know how you can smile with your eyes?  Dad can do that, even with his eyes closed.  (It's a gift.)

I reminded Large once again that she needed to be nice to her sister.  She scampered off, saying, "I can't see the computer!"

Neither Dad nor I could keep a straight face.

1 comment:

If you are rude, spiteful, or just plain mean, there will be a $10 charge just for putting up with you.

Please be nice.