uncle sugar's been away for a bit, so it's been quite the slumber party around here.
of course we miss him and we're certainly not eating as many ingredients without him, but grae says it best when she smiles and sighs that it's really nice. all girls.
until night, that is. because the first was a lightening and thundering hail-ish couple of hours. the kind that lights up the room two seconds before blasting it, do you know? the kind where you more-than-half-expect to see a killer standing over you with a knife? or is that just me and lill?
and then there are the stinkbugs.
we were up until 11.30 the other night, screaming and waving brooms and where the heck did we get that crutch? and trying to flick rubber bands up to the skylights. it was a mess, and a loud one at that. turns out, stinkbugs are deaf. my neighbors may not be.
esmé is the only one who isn't afraid of them. put me on your shoulders and i'll try to reach it. yeah. don't believe her. she'll reach it all right. and then she'll throw it at you and laugh her pants off. she's cute, but she's a devil. and that's the worst kind of devil. they get you every time.
however, she is deathly afraid of smoke and all things fire. so when three flew into the chandelier above my bed, which esmé still frustratingly calls "my bed," and then we screamed at the thought of sleeping below three stinkbugs all night, and then they stopped moving except for a little flutter here and there, and smoke started flying upward?
hysterical. sobfest.
they are still in there. singed to bits, i am sure. the smell is awful.
what if we burn to bits? esmé wailed. and i kind of knew it was less about the burning and more about her dad not being there to emphatically state we are mackins. we do NOT burn to bits. he is believable, that boy of ours.
as soon as the hail and stinkbug dramas had subsided a little, lillie tried to get us all super calm with this beauty of a question, complete with reenactment of the scenario with good old lill acting as killer:
what if we wake up and a killer is standing next to our bed with a knife? and all three looked at me like, yeah. what if that?
aaaaaand, scene.
do you even know how unlucky that would be for him? my words were measured and low and slipped out through my gritted teeth.
girls. do you even know the rage i have? three sets of circle eyes and three shakes of their little heads.
i've been doing laundry and cleaning bathrooms for two years now. YOUR bathrooms! and here i pointed to esmé because she loves to play with wet toilet paper in the tub. she also like to make soap carvings. and if i scrub away one more E made from toothpaste on the mirror, well...then...i'll know it's today.
anyway. you'll be happy to hear that i'm just as believable as uncle sugar. they feel safe and worry-free and have been sleeping like babies.
in. my. bed.
photos from here and here and here. aren't they dreamy, all?
of course we miss him and we're certainly not eating as many ingredients without him, but grae says it best when she smiles and sighs that it's really nice. all girls.
until night, that is. because the first was a lightening and thundering hail-ish couple of hours. the kind that lights up the room two seconds before blasting it, do you know? the kind where you more-than-half-expect to see a killer standing over you with a knife? or is that just me and lill?
and then there are the stinkbugs.
we were up until 11.30 the other night, screaming and waving brooms and where the heck did we get that crutch? and trying to flick rubber bands up to the skylights. it was a mess, and a loud one at that. turns out, stinkbugs are deaf. my neighbors may not be.
esmé is the only one who isn't afraid of them. put me on your shoulders and i'll try to reach it. yeah. don't believe her. she'll reach it all right. and then she'll throw it at you and laugh her pants off. she's cute, but she's a devil. and that's the worst kind of devil. they get you every time.
however, she is deathly afraid of smoke and all things fire. so when three flew into the chandelier above my bed, which esmé still frustratingly calls "my bed," and then we screamed at the thought of sleeping below three stinkbugs all night, and then they stopped moving except for a little flutter here and there, and smoke started flying upward?
hysterical. sobfest.
they are still in there. singed to bits, i am sure. the smell is awful.
what if we burn to bits? esmé wailed. and i kind of knew it was less about the burning and more about her dad not being there to emphatically state we are mackins. we do NOT burn to bits. he is believable, that boy of ours.
as soon as the hail and stinkbug dramas had subsided a little, lillie tried to get us all super calm with this beauty of a question, complete with reenactment of the scenario with good old lill acting as killer:
what if we wake up and a killer is standing next to our bed with a knife? and all three looked at me like, yeah. what if that?
aaaaaand, scene.
do you even know how unlucky that would be for him? my words were measured and low and slipped out through my gritted teeth.
girls. do you even know the rage i have? three sets of circle eyes and three shakes of their little heads.
i've been doing laundry and cleaning bathrooms for two years now. YOUR bathrooms! and here i pointed to esmé because she loves to play with wet toilet paper in the tub. she also like to make soap carvings. and if i scrub away one more E made from toothpaste on the mirror, well...then...i'll know it's today.
anyway. you'll be happy to hear that i'm just as believable as uncle sugar. they feel safe and worry-free and have been sleeping like babies.
in. my. bed.
photos from here and here and here. aren't they dreamy, all?
10 comments:
I'd love a sand floor.
Mentioned your calendar on my blog today:)
xo Melanie
All this talk of stink bugs and I had to look them up. I didn't even know what they look like. I don't think we have them here? Anyhow, they are creepy, nasty, gross.. I see the problem.
I love this story, and these pictures and most of all I love that you have enough rage (and that it comes from laundry and cleaning) to handle a killer. What a way to channel hating housework. I'm gonna to try that. Right now in fact as I head to the laundry room. Save it up for something good (not that I want any killers coming around -ok.. I need to just shut my pregnant mouth up).
xoxo Trina
YOU are dreamy....did you know that? This story elucidates exactly why. Cause you are funny, you are mighty, you are fierce and you are magical...or is it effervescent? Well...both really. I adore you & those girls are lucky as lucky can be. Oh, and I can relate...to all of it.
xo
Melis
The stink bugs!!!! They are all around, we think they look like bug dinosaurs here, slow and creepy!!!! YUCK!!!!! I may need to borrow that crutch.?.!
a childrens book...you must. and the girlies three should be the stars of the book. stinkbugs, unicorns, and tubs full of wet toilet paper ~ and then i can read it to my crumb in my (her/our) bed.
there's nothing like a good slumber party, though those are better without stinkbugs. and even though my dad and brother were always there, i became a quick bug killer myself. but the weird creaks and other sounds at night i had trouble handling.
keep telling me more stories. i'll never tire of them!
keep telling me more stories. i'll never tire of them!
OH the drama of a storm!! When my second baby was born, my husband and I were living in Danbury, Connecticut (with our three year old daughter), on the opposite side of the country from all of my family. As happens, one night he was away traveling...and we had a STORM. We lived in the boonies, on a small lake, and one side of the house was nearly all glass. With each BOOM of thunder, FLASH of lightening and PLING of rain...I was pretty sure we were living in War of the Worlds and were all going to be eaten by aliens any second.
So, what I'm trying to say is...girl, I hear you.
And PLEASE keep storytelling!!!!
I love this story. You are one of very few people whose stories make this all-boys-mama long for daughters.
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