Thursday, July 14, 2011

Cheer Meetings & Twinkie Trees

Yesterday, on my supper break, I received an angry text from Cathy:  "We are out of shampoo. Darn Sarah."  When I called her to tell her I had bought more, I got this response:

"Mom, I can't talk right now.  I'm in a meeting."  What?  I thought she said she was eating, so I continued, "You need to stop blaming your sister for using the last of the shampoo.  She has a right to use it, too, and I just need to know before it's gone so I can buy more."  Cathy whispered, "Okay, Mom.  I really do have to go.  I. Am. In. A. Meeting."  There was lots of teenaged giggling in the background, so I gave up.  "Fine, enjoy your meeting."

On our walk last night, Cathy told me, she really had been in a meeting, of cheerleaders having a cheer-mergency over their upcoming cheer car wash.  They were giggling, because they could hear me scolding her.  Oops.  And then, Cathy went into a long spiel about what did I think she was doing, having a meeting with her stuffed animals, asking Big Bunny to please take minutes, and Walking Talking Elmo to hold all calls?

So, that was yesterday's funny.  Sunday's funny happened after I forced the kids to try a bunch of unfamiliar foods.  We bought prawn crackers, spinach buns, fish balls, egg drop soup, biblinka, shredded squid, and more, from the Oriental Market where the non English fluent cashier whistles Scorpion tunes.  That was an unmitigated disaster.  But, the after-supper party was fun.  A few of Sarah's unsuspecting friends came to join us after they returned home from boating.  As they walked down the sidewalk, Cathy, Sarah, Spencer and Kaitlyn were ready, having tied a twinkie to a ball of yarn and left it on the sidewalk.  As Ashton and Leighton approached, the twinkie slowly moved out of reach.  Then, Ashton sprinted toward it, Spencer took off running down the highway, the twinkie bounced along ("like a gazelle," Ashton later said) and the kids erupted laughing. 

Leighton loved the idea of tricking more kids in that manner, so we set to work trying to string up twinkies in our mulberry tree with low hanging branches, with yarn that could retract into the branches when the kids reached up to grab one.  We then played Pictionary and the story game, and called it a night.

My kids keep me young.  And maybe, I keep them young, too, because I don't want to see them rushing into adulthood, with all its challenges.  Their childhoods will be over soon enough, and then the house will seem very big and very quiet, with no twinkies in our trees, and no stuffed animal meetings.  Cathy can laugh about it now that she has "real" meetings, but those conferences with her toys were not that long ago.

Friday, July 1, 2011

"Take One For The Team, Baby Carrot!!"

Cathy names all her facebook albums according to a comment, heard and worth remembering from that night's conversation.  One album is titled, "Where My Cabin Resigns," and when I pointed out it should be where my cabin resides, she just sighed and said, "You don't get it, Mom. You just don't get it." Ever since she was small, Cathy had an adult's ability to find the funny in any situation.  We went pedal boating the other night with Spencer and Erika, who was remembering our whole, "See that girl over there?" schtick.  We've been laughing over "See that girl over there" jokes (like, "See that girl over there?  She only thinks she's adopted") for several years, meaning Cathy came up with that joke around the age of twelve. 

She is now turning sixteen on Sunday, sharing her sweet sixteen party with her longtime friend, Erika, and here is her birthday blog, replete with old photos and a recent story for which this blog is named.  We were weeding the garden, and Cathy accidentally pulled up a baby carrot along with the weeds.  Rather than replant the tiny, feathery roots, she tossed it aside and said, "Well, now the weeds are gone, its brothers and sisters can get some sun.  Take one for the team, baby carrot!" and we laughed all night over that. 

Happy Birthday, Baby Carrot!  I am proud of you for many reasons: your sense of humor, your kindness, and your ability to deal like an adult, but enjoy life like a kid.  You made me proud when you bought Lexi's homecoming dress, when you wanted to sponsor Binti as yours (and Sarah's) Christmas present, when you opted to spend your time and money when you were given both, by going and buying toys to distribute to the Helen Nassif Pediatric Wing of Saint Luke's Hospital.  You are a great, funny girl and loved by many.