(A tale of yesterday's playtime)
Annah and Jesse played outside all afternoon. They've even utilized the hose while continuing to appear before me with less and less clothing.
In Composition Jesse and I have been working on poetry. He's been working on figurative language, descriptive language, similes and metaphors, and he has not been loving it. This afternoon, the sun must have provided nutrients to his depleted creative self.
Annah came storming inside, bawling. Jesse was following her, sheepishly, "I'm sorry Annah it isn't BAD". The fire that shot out of her eyes in his direction said that "Yes, yes it was bad". Wondering what had changed two kids playing peacefully outside, enjoying the sun and interesting creatures it lures out of hiding; I tried to gain understanding, "What happened?". Through tears and red hot anger she pointed to her brother and said, "HE said, 'Annah, you're as pale as a dead old man'". Giggles erupting around me, I tried to soothe my poor daughter's hurt feelers. "Annah, when I was little, my mom's uncle used to ask my mom, 'What's wrong with that girl? Is she sick or something? She's pale as a ghost!'" (Or, maybe he said Michael Jackson.. I can't remember if according to him it was my nose or skin tone that was Jackson-esque). (not to be confused with my mother's side of the family Jackson-esque qualities) "Your skin is beautiful and looks like mine." Empathy did the trick and she was able to quit crying, feeling not so alone in her paleness.
I told her brother he should leave his poetry in the classroom for now, and encouraged him toward the belief that a woman's pale skin is a sign of leading a refined life... as I nodded toward my pale offspring wearing a spaghetti strap tank and boxers, drenched from playing in the hose in February. Refined indeed.
I oversaw the "apology ceremony" and encouraged the two to return to the beautiful, sunshine filled outside.. minutes before the temperature dropped, the sky darkened and pellets of hail began to fall causing another wardrobe change including snow boots and gloves. They were back to playing, back to enjoying the ever changing out of doors together. I wonder what inspiration will come from this round of play?
Oh you make me laugh! Your children are so very funny. BTW it wasn't Michael Jackson's nose, it was Dick Tracey's. Makes me miss uncle Buddy! He always had something "funny"to say!
ReplyDeleteThis blog post is still making me chuckle.
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