the major award

Yesterday we had a picnic in the backyard.  I lovingly made happy little meals for my children. I even whipped up a fruit smoothy.  I laid out a blanket and placed the plate in front of the Bird.

This is what I got in return.

I have a friend named Gladys. Well that's not her real name, but it's what I call her and sometimes I don't even recognize her on my caller ID because to me, she is Gladys, nothing else. I call her Gladys because she's the neighbor. Not my neighbor. Someone else's neighbor. They call her Gladys too.

Where was I going with this? Oh yes. Gladys likes to say that having a spunky girl is the very best thing. Sassy girls are less likely to get pushed around and manipulated by a man. I'm banking on that theory. Really I am, because what I have on my hands is one punkified sassafrass.

No bones about it my friends.

And then there's this one here.

He tries so hard to be kind to his little sister, but man can she push his buttons. This is what it sounds like from the other room:

"Stop it Amelie. Stop it. Stop!  Oh, are you kiddin' me?  That was naughty! Ahhhhhh! Moooooooommm! Amelie wrecked my Legos again."

And I yell back, "Just be patient." which startles the Little Mister whiles he's trying to quiet down and have a bottle. So he starts kicking his legs and finally works himself up into a fuss just in time for Thom to come down the hall, carrying the Bird like a limp cat. She's crying and Thom's huffing and mayhem ensues.

But yesterday, just as this scene was being played out for the billionth time, the doorbell rang.  Everyone fell silent, and I looked at my wretched children and exclaimed, "It's my major award!" And we all dashed for the door.

Indeed my major award arrived, and it's not a leg lamp.

The press is finally here! Oh happy day!

Stay tuned. I'll be posting pics and they won't be of grumpy little girls.

I have since heard of people under extreme duress speaking in strange tongues. I became conscious that a steady torrent of obscenities and swearing of all kinds was pouring out of me as I screamed. 

-Ralphie (The Christmas Story)

Let's just say duress has become my norm.