As is typical of all kids, Miss O can be a delight, a horrorshow, and everything in between. Usually we hit the whole range in any given 24-hour span. The past 24 hours have been no exception.
She came home from a trip to the bookstore with Pennsylvania Disasters: True Stories of Tragedy and Survival (Disasters Series) and is currently camped out on the couch next to me reading about a schoolyard crash that killed a senator. She was perhaps a little too excited when she looked up and said, "AND, it killed TWO GIRLS! And I think they were in first grade!" Next chapter: "The Horrors Were Heartrending: The Yellow Fever Epidemic." My little Wednesday Addams... The apple does not fall far from the tree in this family.
As she was in the kitchen talking to her grandmother on the phone, she paused to yell, "Hey, dad, do I have veterinarian's day off?"
Yesterday I picked up Miss O from the bus stop and she told me, "Hey, mom, I need 26 snacks. I was playing Hangman and I bet double-or nothing snacks and now I have to bring in double snacks." Okay, first of all: DOUBLE OR NOTHING SNACKS?! What is this, second-grade casino week? Second, we don't have 26 snacks in our house, and going to the store to purchase said snacks is not on my still-sick-as-a-dog agenda. When I told her about the dearth of snackage, she sobbed. "But I PROMISED that I'd bring them in!" She was virtually inconsolable, no doubt thinking of the second-grade legbreakers that awaited her when she showed up on Monday sans snacks.
We ferreted out a bit more information, information that indicated her teacher was somehow condoning this. As I tried hard to control my irritation, I punched in the number of her classroom and managed to find her teacher still there. "Um, hi. Yeah, see, my child is inconsolable over having to bring double-or-nothing snacks into class and I can't quite figure out what's going on. Could you please enlighten me?" Turns out that while this was Miss O's idea to wager Hangman guesses for snacks, her teacher happily let her do so. "Well, if I were you, I'd just send in some little snacks with Miss O on Monday and then..." "But you see, that's the whole issue. We. Don't. Have. 26. Snacks. In. This. House. And. I. Am. Not. Going. To. The. Store. To. Buy. Them." At that point, I wasn't sure who I wanted to throttle more: my little gambler, or her facilitator of a teacher.
DH finally agreed to take Miss O to the store to obtain the snacks, but we told her she had to earn the money to pay for them herself. Since then, we've been using that excuse to get her to take the sheets off the bed, clear the table, ferry the phone from room to room, empty the dishwasher, and take care of some of the trash. Wonder what else we can get out of her before she realizes she's already earned those snacks? I have a two-foot-high stack of papers and bills that need to be shredded... *taps chin thoughtfully*