Thursday, November 15, 2012

The Incident

I feel compelled to file an incident report with you, gentle readers, both as a confession and a cautionary tale. You folks and your constant support and devotion keep me honest and it is:

This morning I raked the lawn.

I know, I know. I warned you I had quite the confession to make. Actually, I only raked half the lawn, because...well, here's how it happened:

Approximately 10:00 a.m., Meg takes Pippa and S out to the backyard to play.

Meg: Gee, there sure are a lot of leaves laying about. And Dylan is doing that whole OMFG-my-dissertation-must-drink-pots-and-pots-of-coffee-and-stay-up-til-3-writing-til-my-eyes-bleed thing. I bet he'd appreciate it if I raked the back lawn. You guys won't mind, will you?

Pippa and S: We're oblivious to what you just said and will keep happily poking the dog with sticks.

Meg: Awesome. Okay, here's the rake. Let's do this!

Pippa: Hold up. What is going on here?

Meg: I'm just raking the lawn, sweetie. I'm still right here.

Pippa: Um, Mom, it's okay when you ignore me to read George R.R. Martin or text Daddy. George R.R. Martin and Daddy are awesome. Ol' stinky leaves are not.

Meg: I'm not ignoring you, sweetie. Hey, let's play a game! Why don't you show me how you jump?

Pippa: Piss on your jumping, Mom. I think I'd like you to pick me up right now.

S: Oooh, the Not-Mama's back is turned! I wonder if the dog would like a stick enema?

Meg: Pippa sweetie, I can't pick you up right now, Mommy's raking. How about you bring me some cool rocks? S, don't poke the doggy's butt with sticks. That's a mean touch.

Pippa: Rocks? What am I, a geologist? Screw that. Pick me up NOW.

S: Oooh, I wonder if there are any rusty nails behind the shed here. Tetanus is my favorite deadly disease.

Meg: Pippa, honey, Mommy can't pick you up right now. I'm raking the leaves. S, don't go back there, sweetie, not safe! I know! Why don't you guys bring me some leaves for my pile? That would be fun and helpful!

Pippa: Oh, so it's child labor now, huh? I'm only 18 months old for God's sake! Next she'll have me down in the salt mines! Hear that neighbors?!

S: Oooh, I wonder if it would be a good idea to stick this handful of wet leaves into the outdoor electrical socket? What am I saying? Of course it's a good idea!

Meg: S, no touch! No touch that! Not safe! Pippa, sweetie, please calm down. It's okay, Mommy's just raking, I'll be done soon. Why don't you go play with S?

Pippa: That's right, folks: my mother, the oppressor. I hear she was responsible for that Benghazi thing, too. She's pretty much the WORST MOTHER EVER!

S: Rocks taste good in my mouth.

Meg: Pippa, Mommy loves you. Just let me rake leaves for 10 more minutes and we'll go in and have lunch. Are you hungry? S, we don't eat rocks. How about you guys play on the slide? Wouldn't you like to go down the slide?

Pippa: I'm starving! It's been 2 whole hours since I ate! My mom is Mussolini! She's Stalin! She's Hitler! Someone come save me!!!

S: Jumping off the garden fence sounds like the most fun ever!


Pippa and S: Geez, what are you yelling about? Such a drama queen. Sheesh.

Anyone know where I can find this guy? I think I'd like to have a date with him tonight.:

Hello, handsome.


  1. LOL. I love that you adult-ize your children. Love. The last time I tried to rake leaves, I ended up picking up a giant board/stick/wood thing that had a nasty rusty nail in it...and the giant board/stick/wood thing became attached to my finger. A hospital trip later...I haven't raked leaves since. I was 10. Hmmm maybe I should blog about that.

  2. The trick is to bury them in the leaves - then you can't hear them complain.