Release The Kraken

Me: You need to finish taking out the trash.

Kid: *facepalm*

Me: Seriously, you need to take it out.

Kid: How about after supper?

Me: No, it will be too dark and you will whine to Jim for help.

Kid: ...

Me: Take out the trash, or I will release the kraken.

Kid: *perking up* Oh! Do it!

Me: Do you know what THE KRAKEN is???

Kid: it's a giant squid. Bring it!


I want to be irritated, but I am impressed that I am raising a girl who a) knows what a kraken is, and b) isn't scared at all! Aaaaahahahahahahaaa!

Watching The Trash

Kiddo was running some trash out to the dumpster this morning. She flew out the door happily enough, then flew right back in. 

"Hey Grandma, is it okay if I wait to run the trash out?"

"Why?"

"The Grouchy Old Man is outside."

"How about if I come sit outside?"

"Deal. You watch him. In case he tries anything."

Like what, my girl? Threatens you in his grouchy voice? Whatevs. I've got your back!

Hey Geniuses!

"Hey geniuses! Make room for the ambulance!"

While we waited at a red light, watching traffic refuse to move for the ambulance with lights on and siren wailing. She sounded remarkably like ... well ... me.

Hairy

Yesterday we were sitting on the patio. The kiddo is standing beside me, playing with my hair. 

Her: Grandma how do you get your hair like that?

Me: Like what?

Her: With that curly part here.

My forelock kind of droops/swoops over my forehead. 

Me: Well, I brush my hair back when it's wet, and the universe does tthe rest. 

Her: I've dreamed about having hair like that!

I want to be that easily awed. I want the fall of my hair to be simply something that I dream about having. Instead I dream of naps. LOL!

Wow

The kiddo and I were talking about the history of tech. Sort of. I explained how we didn't have tech to entertain us on car rides or while waiting for things to happen when I was a kiddo. 

K: So all you could do was stare out the window?!?

M: No. I could read a book. 

K: Just a book?

M: No. I also used my imagination. 

K: So like a flying box?

I went steaight faced for a moment. She is currently all about flying boxes. 

M: Better. I made whole worlds, imaginary creatures...

K: Really??!?

M: Ayup. I was awesome with my imagination. 

The kiddo sat back, reflective for a few moments. 

K: So you didn't have an iPad?

M: Nope. Kiddo, you're older than the iPad. 

K: WHAT??

M: Ayup. You were born before the iPad was invented. 

I think I broke my kiddo's brain. She sat in stunned silence for the remainder of the journey home. 

Let Me Read You Something ...

I was a fluent reader before I was five. I mean, I was able to read "The Highwayman" start to finish. With inflection.

The kiddo was a slower starter. She has always thought of herself as a reader, and I had to fight my own biases and not push her to be better at reading.

I'm glad I fought with myself.

Wednesday, as we cruised around the city running errands, the kiddo said, "Hey Grandma, let me read you something, okay?"

"Okay sure. What is it?"

She held up a graphic novel.

This graphic novel, to be exact. "The Rise of Scourge" by Erin Hunter.

She read to me for almost an hour in total, between stops at various places. She read so much that she need a drink to wet her throat. Different voices, quick explanation of visuals, and all the while certain of herself, and of the fact that her captive audience - me - would remain interested.

Surprisingly, I did.

However, the next time she says, "Can I read you something," I'm going to check to see what she is holding first. Heh.

Letting Go

The kiddo was experiencing difficulties at school over her lunches. Apparently they were "weird". By weird, it turns out that they were seriously lacking in junk food. Fresh fruit and vegetables, lean protein, and nothing much else branded her as different. 

While I could rant about that ad nauseum ad infinitum, I won't. The real problem was that she stopped eating her lunches. She would come home starving, some days going ten hours or more without food. 

I had to decide what outcome I wanted. I spoke with the school, and let them know what was going on. But truly, I wanted my kiddo to eat her lunch. So, for more than a month I have been using my lunch hour to drive across the city to have lunch with her. 

This weekend I talked with her, and we decided she will try eating lunch in the lunchroom again. We will have lunch together once a week instead. Last night, as we were planning her lunch, she informed me, "Tomorrow will be the saddest day. We won't get to have lunch together."

Although I reassured her, my heart broke a little. Letting go is hard sometimes. 

New Clothes

*kiddo and her older sister run out of Dad's place to play*

*laughter and squealing ensues*

*twenty minutes pass*

*sudden silence*

*kiddo and older sister come inside*

"Uhh, Grandma? I had a bit of an accident."

*sheepish gestures at damp crotch*

*new clothes!*

I told both of them, "This is not a good strategy for getting new clothes."

Lunchtime Exchange

"You're fun to have lunch with."

"Yeah me too. Wait what?"

LMFAO!!

"Did you know ...?"

"Hey Gramma! Did you know that a snake can still bite you, even after it loses its head?"

Ummmm ...

No, kiddo, I didn't know that. While I am grateful on one hand, the rest of my body - particularly my skin, is trying to crawl away from that knowledge.