|Heather--apparently prepping for her reign.|
A FEW MONTHS AGO
SCENE: The car. Heather and I are heading home from somewhere. We turn into the parking lot of our town home community, and Heather calls out in delight,
"Mom! Here are all our houses!"
That's right folks, apparently we live in Cantwell Manor. All those sixty-four other homeowners are not in fact homeowners, but merely serfs on our estate. It's hard being the lady of the land, but I think I do a pretty good job. Now if I could just get Squire Eric to take his ruling responsibilities a little more seriously, my life would be complete.
* * *
THIS PAST SUNDAY MORNING
SCENE: Heather and her friend "Cameron" are on our front porch. Heather is in her Sunday dress and Cameron is trying to convince her to come out so he can take her for a bike ride to see a secret place in our "estate". I am trying to gently steer Cameron away from this idea, as we have kind of a busy morning, and Cameron is that delightfully mischievous kind of kid who may or may not have snuck (sneaked?) out of the house without his parents actually realizing that he has gone. So, I inform Cameron that Heather probably won't be able to accompany him right now, but could possibly do so the next afternoon.
CAMERON (thoughfully) : Well actually, I'm not available then. I'm only available now. I have lots of stuff going on on those days, it's just Saturdays and Sundays when I'm available.
HEATHER (adamantly): Well, I'm only available on Tuesdays and Thursdays.*
What the heck?? "Available?" Since when do four-year-olds manage their own "availability"? Since when do four-year-olds even know the word "available"???
Something tells me I am out of my league here.
Mark my words, teenager-hood is not going to be pretty.
*This totally flies in the face of my "Come back tomorrow (Monday) to play" tack, but whatever.