Today while R went for a long hike with friends at on a Pt. Reyes trail, and D went for his weekly gaming marathon at his friend's house, S and I spent some quality time at the fabric store.
We picked out a bright cheerful green cotton duck for new livingroom curtains. (Well, ok, it's lime, but that beats the drab, musty forest green velvet we've had there, and I need the change.)
We also -thanks to a sale and my second daughter's incredible mind-bending powers - bought the pattern and fabric for her to be a witch this Halloween. Keep in mind that I don't really, actually, sew. Much. Curtains I feel I can do. But the last time I tried to sew a whole Halloween costume was that turtle-thing we made for R when she was one. We were still hot-gluing as she toddled out the door. And all I really got out of the experience was a headache, lots of tears (mine), and, about five years later, a poem. Which, on balance, isn't that bad, but still.
S was so excited about the project that she insisted on carrying the fabric to the car and holding it all the way home. When we had just walked through the door, she said, "Mom? I'm just asking. Are you going to start on my costume now? I'm just asking."
"I'm just asking," is her new tactic for staving off a quick "no" to any number of unreasonable requests. It's the sweet dotted swiss ribbon she ties around her manipulative questions.
"Not tonight," I told her.
I'm just saying.
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