It’s Not Fair

“That’s not fair!!!!!”

“It’s not fair Mommy! “

“No I don’t want to.  It’s not fair!”

It has been the phrase of choice for my lovely 9 year old.

The one phrase in the entire repertoire of phrases she could pick from that she knows gets under my skin…it really gets me.

So last weekend as we stood in the kitchen… I reminded her of a chore she needed to do.  As quickly as I could tell her what needed to be done the words burst from her mouth, “IT’S NOT FAIR!!” and this time I looked at her I said, “You know that is not true!  If it was fair…

It's Not Fair

Lost for words she just starred at me.  While I hoped for her usual giggles, this time I got a stomp and a huff as she walked away.  I smiled to myself and then looked up to see who else was in the kitchen with me (I actually was a bit surprised at what had come out of my mouth).  I saw my 7 year old looking at me.  Starring at each other for a moment I smiled again and then……..ohhhhh the laughter!

The Importance of Time

I parked the car and saw them sitting at the middle table nearest to the window.  Olivia had just gotten her hair cut, Francine was along for the ride (there was no way she was going to miss anything) and we were at our usual post haircut spot… Noodles (don’t ask me why or how but for whatever reason it has become a post haircut tradition).

Sitting at the middle table was a slicked back silver haired grandfather and a 12 something,  skeleton embellished black and white striped fuzzy lined knit capped wearing teenaged boy. “HUH! That’s an odd looking pair.  I bet that 12 year old can’t wait until that meal is over,” I thought judging by what I saw.

My daughters and I ordered our food.  They got their drinks from their favorite touch a thousand buttons to get to their drink with goofy flavors machine.

“I want ice in mine!” Francine requested as she tip toed to reach the ice button. “I can do it myself Momma!” She smiled reminding me as I lifted her to reach the buttons.

“I don’t want ice in mine,” Olivia declared.

“Ok,” I smiled  hovering my hand under Francine’s cup hoping she wouldn’t spill, while trying not to interfere with her independence and glancing back at Olivia making sure she didn’t overflow her cup.

We found a table and sat down.  As we waited for our food to come we stated to talk.  I asked them what was new with them.  How was school on Friday?  One question lead to talking that led to another question and more talking…The flood gates had suddenly been open. Continue reading “The Importance of Time”