(they were dying anyway)
::because there was only one adult lap to sit in after dinner. So I suggested that his brother might have a turn. And picture Rumpelstiltskin when he realizes his name has been guessed: that's what the transformation was like. Hopping and red-faced with rage.
With my supersonic mother radar, I saw his eyes flick to the vase of lupines (which were given to him in honor of his Bridge Crossing, from the sweet, tiny Z.). In his state of supreme dissatisfaction, he informed me that he was going to throw them on the floor in
Jonas and I played Scrabble and he won
because he is a master of strategy,
if not yet spelling
I said: That will make a big mess, and I can't let you spill water on the violin that is right on the floor. But you can throw the flowers on the lawn if you want.
quilt in the making for Sylvan's new Hedgehog
So he picked up the vase, opened the door, stepped onto the front porch and hurled them, vase and all (thankfully, the vase is made of metal).
newest Buttercup bag
for a July 1st birthday girl
There was still a mess. Lupine leavings, dried and shed on the floor of the dining room. I got the broom and the dust pan. And we swept up together.
The storm wasn't over. Some of us had smiled a little at one point in this charade, and it wasn't forgotten or forgiven easily.
the Rocket Ship ("rocketchip" was how I said it) Returns!
my crafty dad made it for me when I was little;
today it came down from the attic,
was thoroughly dusted,
so the Hedgehog could blast off
Did it matter to the sibling who was given his turn in my lap? Honestly, no. But for him it was the principle: no one should be able to have a raging fit and be rewarded with what he wants. I get it. But it was certainly a derailment of our otherwise calm evening.