Annie was in the kitchen canning. This meant I was on daughter duty. It’s a lot like being a soccer goalie. The girls are represented as the soccer balls, and the goal is the kitchen. I post myself in front of the kitchen entrance and I just keep throwing them back into play. After a while their fascination with whatever Annie is doing dies out and they make themselves content in the living room. This gives me a chance to write while keeping one eye on them. Sometimes I need to take a break just to enjoy the show they put on.
Regina was pointing a pencil with an oversized eraser at Lydia. Lyd was sitting perfectly still, her knees drawn up to her chin. Reg was smiling triumphantly.
“Hey girls! What’s happening here?”
“I’d tell you Dad, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Reg? A little help here…”
“Wydda’s a Wazzberry Dad.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me Lyd?”
“Because Raspberries can’t talk.”
“But you’re talking to me right now.”
She rolled her eyes, “But you’re not playing, so it’s fine.”
“Okay.” I turned to Regina, “You turned your sister into a Raspberry?”
“Yah.”
“Why?”
Reg blinked at that question, she looked at her wand and shrugged, “Because that’s what the Wand did.”
“May I interrupt?”
“Sure Lyd.”
“Reg? I’m getting tired of being a Raspberry.”
“Oh! Sarry Wydda.” She pointed her wand at Lyd, “Into a Toatle!”
“I’m a turtle now Daddy.” She said as she began slowly crawling around the room.
“This is a wonderful game you two are playing!”
“Daddy…Siewence!”
“Uhm…Excuse me? What was that all about?”
She gave me a cruel look, she waved the wand at me, “Into a Wazzberry!” (oh, she’s in character, she’s not actually sassing me.)
Lydia, still feeling like she needed to interpret, “Oh great. Now you’re a raspberry Daddy.”
“Well what do I do?”
Regina replied, “Go to the kitchen. Mama’s gonna make you into jam.”
(You are a sick and twisted little girl!)