Annie has been spending an awful lot of time in the kitchen lately making jam for her budding business.
My primary job is to keep the girls out of the kitchen. I’ve been in the living room with them, playing the part of a hockey goalie; blocking the kitchen entry way, bouncing them back into the living room, doing my best to keep the girls from being underfoot as Annie walks around with racks of boiling hot jars.
Earlier this week, Annie took a rare day off, yet habit dies hard and she realized that despite having nothing to do in the kitchen, she was still dwelling in that room. When this occurred to her, she wandered into the living room to enjoy watching her girls play, perhaps even play with them!
She stood there, watching, smiling, enjoying the imaginative interactive play they were having. Suddenly she made a bluff punch at Lydia. Lyd flinched. Annie called her out, “Two for flinching!” and she playfully punched Lyd twice in the arm.
“Huh?” Lyd asked.
“It’s the two for flinching game! You fake a punch at someone, when they flinch, you call them out on it.”
“Flinching?”
“Flinching is like blinking while bracing yourself to get hit.”
I chimed in, “Here. Watch this.” Annie bluffed a punch, I didn’t even acknowledge it.
“See? That is not flinching. Now, this is flinching!” She again bluffed a punch, and I overplayed flinching.
“Oh! Let me try!” Lyd bluffed a punch at Annie, she didn’t flinch, much to Lyd’s lighthearted frustration.
“Let me try!” Regina bellowed. She gave Annie a look, then jumped up and successfully punched her breast.
After Annie had a pained expression and rubbed the spot for a moment, she said to Regina, “But sweetie! You are not supposed to actually punch someone. You are supposed to make the person think you will punch them.”
Lyd, as always, decided to take the reins of this little lesson, “Like this!” Lyd then attempted a bluff punch at Reg.
Wait!
Hold that thought. May I push the pause button? This won’t be long.
Before I continue with this story, eight-year olds experience some pretty drastic growth spurts. When I put last year’s shoes next to the ones we got Lyd for school this year, it kind of freaked me out. Shoes are really one of many indicators. This rate of growth applies to the entire body. For the most part, an eight-year old should not have much confidence in how long or short their reach is from one day to the next.
Okay! That was all. Let’s hit the play button again.
Earlier this week, Annie took a rare day off, (oops, we went back a couple paragraphs. Let me jump forward here. Okay, again, Lydia was about to show Regina how to bluff a punch) Here we go:
Lyd underestimated her reach. Within seconds of Lyd’s demonstration, Reggie was clutching her eye and wailing into Annie’s shoulder. All the while Lyd had a look of horror on her face, doing everything she could to convince us that she didn’t mean it.
“It’s okay sweetie, it’s okay. We know you didn’t mean it.” (Did we mean it? Did she mean it?) “See? Reg is trying to wiggle free of me! She’s already feeling better!”
Regina, back on terra firma, gave Lyd a dirty look as she rubbed the final tears off her face. Lyd very genuinely gave her an apology and stepped forward with open arms offering a hug.
That was the opportunity Regina was seeking. Her tiny fist flew out and struck Lyd directly in the nose. Before anyone could react, Regina was scampering out of the room, leaving Lydia in tears, about to soak Annie’s other shoulder.
I watched this whole thing, hands resting on my hips. Reg’s first day of 4K is less than two weeks away. I think I might be getting a phone call or two this school year.
With Lyd’s wailing muffled in Annie’s shoulder she looked at me, “I know what I’ll do! I’ll teach the girls a new game!”
“What was the game? Two for Flinching or was it Tit for Tat?”