Friday, October 30, 2009

Chaperone

The lovely husband drove E and her friend SMA to their pumpkin patch field trip yesterday. It was about a 30 minute drive. It was pumpkin picking and and sliding on slides and feeding small animals and horse-ride waiting and lunch overseeing and a 30 minute drive back to preschool.

He says they never stopped talking once. He felt aurally claustrophobic.

One wouldn’t laugh at the other’s attempts to elicit laughter and then one pouted. Then one laughed in a compensatory way and one complained that the other’s laughs were too loud.


A note on agreeing to disagree:

They saw a fire truck.

“I love fire trucks.”
I love red fire trucks!
“Not all fire trucks are red. Some are yellow with red stripes.”
But I love the red ones!
“But what about the yellow ones?”
No. I love the red ones.
“But they’re not all red!”
But yesterday I saw an orange fire hydrant.
“Fire hydrants are red.”
No. Yesterday I saw orange ones.
“Fire trucks aren’t orange.”
I’m not talking about fire trucks!



A note on gender:

Every time they got carried away in their mini-world and M had to commandeer the show he called out to them, only to be unheeded. Then he realized that for dozens of utterances he had called out “Girls…girls!!” despite his charge SMA being Very Much Boy. Having a boy of our own will, in fact, be a bit of an adjustment.


A note on the relative idiocy of grownups:

As one of their debates escalated the two began wrestling on the muddy ground. M called to them: “Girls! Hey! E and SMA! Stop fighting!”

They paused mid-tussle to look up at him, exasperated and offended. In unison, they spoke:

WE’RE NOT FIGHTING! WE’RE PLAYING! Pin It