I am standing in the kitchen, finishing up the breakfast dishes.
From behind me, I hear a bump bump bump bump . . . something small is falling down the stairs.
Followed by stomping feet and whispered conversation.
First an urgent Maj, “Don’t tell Mom you dropped your lollipop down the stairs. She won’t let you eat it if she knows it rolled all sticky down the stairs.”
And then a puzzled Kallan, “What? Three-second rule, Maj! I picked it right up! Soon as I rinse off the dog fur? Good as new.”
“But don’t you think Mom’s going to be mad that you dropped your sticky candy in the house? We’re supposed to be careful.”
“OK, you’re right. Thanks, Maj!”
And then two sisters come around the corner and into the kitchen. Kallan slinks past me with her hands cupped in secrecy, and Maj . . .
Maj says, “In case you were wondering? Kallan dropped her lollipop down the stairs, and made little sticky prints on the stairs, probably. Plus, she is planning on rinsing it off and then eating it again, which is just so disgusting I can’t even believe it. You need to speak with her, Mother.”
Kallan is so stunned she doesn’t have words.
So I use mine, “Maj, that was just mean. I heard you guys. You can’t tell your sister you’re going to help her keep a secret and then tell on her. You need to apologize and then go clean your room for a bit.”
I help Kallan rinse off the dog-fur lollipop as Maj sputters behind me, “Don’t you want to know what’s going on in this house, Mother? Do you want to be all clueless?”
I turn, “If you and your sister agree to keep a secret and no one’s getting hurt? You need to be a good sister, Maj.”
Maj stomps off, “I cannot even believe that I am in trouble for telling the truth. You have got to be kidding me.”
I call after her, “You are not in trouble for telling the truth! You are in trouble for betraying your sister’s trust! So there!”
Maj continues to make snorting sounds of incredulity as she angrily straightens her room, “You would think that I would be the good sister, because I let you know what’s going on around here, but nooooo. Here I am, all in trouble, while your sweet little angel daughter eats her candy. I’m sure this makes perfect sense, but I must be stupid because I do not see the sense. PERHAPS YOU COULD EXPLAIN IT TO ME, MOTHER?”
I yell back, “I have already explained all that needs to be explained, Maj. The rest? Is a secret.”
Kallan giggles, “Good one, Mom!”
I help rinse off Kallan’s lollipop. She reaches for it with outstretched hands.
I hand her the candy and take her hands . . . examine them.
They are covered with dark spots of tree sap.
Such familiar little dirty hands.
When I was 10, I remember climbing high into the pine trees that lined the one side of our yard. Far higher than our rooftop, as high as I could climb. So high that the branches bent beneath my weight and threatened to snap.
But didn’t.
A perfect balance.
With my heavy burdens and secrets.
Poised in a place where no more weight could settle.
For hours.
Sigh.
With those same dirty tree-sapped hands.
I am good at secrets.
I remember another time of secrets. More lovely.
Mark and I are sitting across the table from our girls at dinnertime. Maj is about 4 and Kallan is 2. They are both giggling.
Maj has learned about telling secrets at preschool, and she wants to show her sister how they work.
Except Maj has misunderstood the concept a bit.
Maj carefully curves her hands around her mouth to deliver her message. She brings her mouth and hands close to Kallan’s face and whispers the secret . . . into Kallan’s eyeball.
Kallan is delighted! She cups her own chubby hands and whispers her own secret . . . into Maj’s eyeball.
The secrets? Get progressively louder and louder. It is difficult to hear things whispered into your eyeball.
Mark and I are laughing so hard we cannot speak. So we don’t. We just sit and watch and listen as the girls tell secrets.
I love you, Kallie!
I love you, Maj!
The best secrets ever.
Screamed into an eyeball.
Snort.
What sweet memories…
The memory of Maj and Kallan whispering secrets into one another’s eyeballs?
Makes my heart all melty.
Ha! I love this post. The innocence of children as they learn new things always amazes me, and amuses me.
And the stories you tell about your girls reminds me of when I was growing up. Betrayal by siblings. Ahh, the memories. LOL
The time (not so long ago) when there was only love and no betrayal?
So sweet and innocent.
Things change.
Sigh.
This is why the childhood warnings about doing things that will poke your eye out are so very important. One minute you’re playing with a BB gun, the next your eye has popped out of its socket and the air is filled with the shrieking whirlwind of every secret you’ve ever been told, pouring out of the eyehole in your face.
Doubleplus ungood!
I was all set to comment on how relatable a story this is, how my brother and I played similar silly games we didn’t understand…
Then I read Nigel’s comment and laughed so hard I peed a little.
I’m like a little Buddha of incontinence, going from place to place, causing the happy people everywhere to wet themselves like happy little children.
Let’s see you do that, Tooth Fairy!
A little Buddha of incontinence????
OK, now I am dampish.
Then my work here is done!
And now I shall return to my Fortress of Arrogance for a much deserved drink and relaxing massage from my girl-servant, Katya.
Girl-servants are so much more awesome than man-servants.
A lot less gay, too.
Bummer . . .
All I have is a serving wenchman.
Fortress of Arrogance?
Snort!
Hey, you’ve got a standing invite at the Fortress of Arrogance whenever you want to drop by. The spare key is under the potted hemlock plant next to the bronze statue of R. Kelly peeing on a fifteen year old cheerleader. If it’s not there, just throw some of the empty Pabst cans at the windows until Katya comes and lets you in.
We’ll sit up and watch Glengarry Glen Ross all night long and crack each other up with our Alec Baldwin impressions: “Coffee is for closers.”
We’re so fucking awesome it hurts.
Glengarry Glen Ross? Why must you hurt me this way?
I am all in pain at the beauty of your commenting.
Lovely fucking awesome pain.
Like John Couger said, “Hurts so good.”
Always. Be. Closing.
Alright, I am trying to curl my fingers away from the keyboard, because that is such a lovely last word.
But it’s not mine.
So my fingers are all tappity.
Sorry for any pain that causes you.
NIGEL! i love you. that is all.
That’s all I’m looking for out of life, is for everyone to love me.
My plan is working perfectly.
And Kris: bring on the pain, woman!
The girls bought a shitload of rope the other day.
Hold on . . .
I have a plan.
It’s moments like these that make me pause, uncertain of which way to go: to run screaming in fear or to just sit back and wait to see what’s coming.
It’s better to regret the things you did do, though, than what you didn’t, so I’ll just sit here and wait.
Mr. Patience, that’s me.
Who said you were going to get to see what’s coming?
Let me just tighten this blindfold . . .
Excellent.
I like surprises.
Especially if it involves cake.
Not so much the death.
Hopefully you are not out of cake.
Only the little death.
La petite mort.
And then cake!
YAY!
See, THIS is what I missed out on, not having a sister.
My eyeball to this day remains un-whispered.
Rip-off.
Poor un-whispered eyeball.
Poor you.
And you said you don’t do heartwarming.
Psh.
If this isn’t heartwarming I don’t know what is.
Aaaaaws!
This was not heartwarming!
Did you not see the part about the zombies and the ray guns?
No hearts were warmed except by sizzling fire.
Snort!
Nope, my heart is all warm. Also, my heart strings have been strummed.
Strummed by brain-eating zombies, you mean.
I so needed that today. (happy sighs)
Thank. You.
Happy sighs at your happiness.
Much love.
You know how when you see a swan gliding through calm water, making not a ripple, and then will ever-so-quickly submerge its head and come up again as though nothing has happened…all serene and gliding again?
That is what you writing often feels like to me. The life than you’ve built for your family is that graceful gliding. And the submerging of the head? Your past.
Just lovely, as always.
You are all poetic and lovely.
I am not sure of my swan-like nature, but the rest?
I am happy to be seen and understood, my friend.
Thank you.
sigh
Thank you, sighing you.
This brings back childhood memories. The relationship between sisters or girlfriends can be so bittersweet, especially at that age.
Yes, Maj and Kallan’s relationship?
Bittersweet at times.
Indeed.
Sometimes I am glad I have just the one and they can’t fight or gang up on me. And then I’m a little bummed because I’ve always loved having a sister.
I’m not sure that Maj and Kallan would say that they each “always love having a sister.”
Snort!
lol.. I love the eyeballs!! Hee-hee!!
It was such a cute moment.
Ahh, the “So There” School of Parenting. I also attend. Small world!
Whispering secrets… I anticipate and fear that stage.
Also? If you recall that random comment where I mentioned I hoped I was not pregnant? I am not pregnant. Everyone can put away the guns they may or may not have been planning to shoot me with in the event that I had become re-pregnant a mere 4 months after giving birth. Thank you.
I was not even going to shoot you.
Although I would have pointed and mocked.
So there!
I feel like I am back in high school again going “WHAT?! SHE MIGHT BE PREGNANT?! Oh she’s not.. Wow.”
That is all.
Screaming into eyeball… hilarious! Sisters should always keep each other’s secrets. Always! :)
I know, right?
Maj is such a loon.
The Eyeball Whisperers.
Love it.
Poor Maj. It must be exhausting to maintain that level of righteousness. And yet. I do feel for her … a little.
I would feel a lot more for her?
If she hadn’t been the one who encouraged the secret keeping in the first place.
On the bright side, if Kallan does anything not in her best interest as an adolescent (and from what I’ve read this is possible) and Maj knows about it? So will you. Tee hee. She’s so indignant.
I had a sister but for such a short time and at such a young age, I don’t remember her. I often wonder what it would’ve been like to have a sister. I can’t make up my mind. Brothers are good though too. :)
Maj tells on everything.
She is the bane of Kallan’s existence.
According to Kallan.