I Think I’m in Trouble

If you’ve been following my blog, you know that every Wednesday my four-year-old neighbor, C, comes over for a visit.  It started out as Spanish lessons, but there wasn’t a lot of interest in that subject after the first few weeks.  After awhile, C and I settled into a comfortable routine of chatting about the world situation, looking at the pictures in my digital picture frame (C can identify everyone by name in all 987 photos and tell you their relationship to one another), and finishing with snack time, something C instituted the first day she visited.  In fact, she recently looked in my fridge and told me I needed to put juice boxes on my grocery list. During snack time, I am expected to tell a story I was more or less ordered to invent.  We’ve been doing this for quite some time, several months at least, and have been enjoying each other’s company immensely.

This morning I got a phone call from C’s mother.  “N (C’s two-and-a-half-year old sister) doesn’t want to be left out.  C told her that it was really fun over there.  Would you mind if N came, too?”

“Of course she can come!” I said, flattered that C actually thought I was fun.  Then the reality hit me.  The dynamics are changing and I have to become even more entertaining than usual.  Mind you, this is only a half-hour visit, though sometimes, many times, it runs over, but there is no down time when you are hosting a four-year-old and a two-year-old.

So, when in doubt, dance.  That’s my new mantra.  I put a Jesse Cook CD on the Bose, turned up the volume, and we were three rockin’ fools.  Story time during our snack was a little odd, this time, because instead of me making it up, I had unasked for help from the girls.  I began the story of two little princesses named C and N, and this is how the story went:

Me:  Once upon a time, there were two little princesses who were sisters and their names were C and N and…

N:  And they all fall down!

Me: Okay, they all fell down, and…

C:  Because they didn’t have any feet!

Me:  Really?  They didn’t have any feet?

C:  No feet.  So they had to roll everywhere.

N:  Tell it again!

The girls have just left, and I’m already wondering how many times I can get by with the dance routine, and when it wears out, what will I do next?  It’s a challenge.  One thing I do know, though.  It’s a challenge I relish!  Oh, and by the way, N told me I need to get graham crackers to go with the juice boxes.

Advertisements

About Coming East

I am a writer, wife, mother, and grandmother who thinks you're never too old until you're dead. My inspiration is Grandma Moses who became a successful artist in her late 70's. If I don't do something pretty soon, though, I'll have to find someone older for inspiration.
This entry was posted in Just Blogging and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to I Think I’m in Trouble

  1. mypajamadays says:

    We love dancing parties in the kitchen! Once we had a blind taste test game. The girls were really little then, of course, before they had an opinion of their own about food. You could try that! I like Teddy Grahms myself…actually, those little frosted animal cookies are my favorite. They are lucky to have you.

    em

  2. oldereyes says:

    Please. Don’t tell me you had C and N over with no graham crackers. It’s a wonder they’ll come again. Seriously, little one’s are the best. Have fun.

    • comingeast says:

      Actually, I bought the box of graham crackers for N, she wasn’t able to come this week because she is sick, so I ate nearly the whole box by myself. Forgot how good they taste!

Let me hear your thoughts. They are important to me.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s