I updated this blog several days ago, after having been nagged about it by a certain someone who shall remain nameless, but who I just call "Mom". I did it on my fancy iPad, though, and the dang thing didn't post...and it didn't save. Since I've made it a habit to forget everything I've posted to my blog immediately (leaving room for important things like passwords, PINs and favorite ice cream flavors) I'm sorry to say a precious memory of my children is now lost to me forever. SIGH.
Just kidding, it was just this little tale:
Last Saturday morning Kate awoke (this item unto itself is pretty big news; she's become quite the sleeper lately), and made breakfast for her sister. Plain yogurt drizzled with honey and topped with just a flourish of Honey Nut Cheerios. She even managed to do it neatly. It was all very puzzling but so cute no one asked questions.
Later that day, as we walked together to the park, Kate and I sauntered along well behind Sarah, who was zooming down the sidewalk on her balance bike, and Jeremiah. "I had a nightmare this morning" Kate confided. "There was a tsunami". Already my interests were piqued. Since I was at least her age, my go-to stress-induced dream is always centered around a tidal wave. When I was her age, we just called them "tidal waves", so I still do. Later, when I was in college, I learned my mom has them, too. So how d'ya like that? Anyway, this thing gets gruesome. Here we go. "Sarah was killed in the big wave" Kate continued. "I saw her body and she wasn't breathing or moving or anything. When I woke up, I was crying". Yeeeeehsh. "I think that would have made me cry, too" I said. Kate nodded, holding my hand, walking impossibly slow. How does she walk that slowly? How? "So anyway, " she said "I guess I really do like Sarah."
And this is how the breakfast incident came to make sense.
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