People? If you have not yet checked out the Featured Bloggers for this week?
Do that . . . three amazing posts from three amazing writers.
Chris, Sarie, and David are just over there on the right side of this page . . .
Or you can read the post I put up in introduction.
Back here? We are in the midst of Spring Break.
Spring Break is not actually a break for me, as it turns out.
Maj and Kallan are playing Yahtzee together.
It is going better than you might expect.
They finish the game and add up their respective scores.
Kallan beats her sister and dances a triumphant dance of bad sportsmanship around the room.
Maj comes to me, her eyes filled with outrage, “Mother, she cheated. I need you to verify her score, because there is no way she beat me. No way.”
Kallan is falsely incredulous, “Maj, are you calling your beloved sister a liar? I cannot even believe what I am hearing! I beat you fair and square. It’s called strategy, sister of mine. You should try it sometime.”
Maj puts her hands on her hips, “I am calling you a liar and a cheater and a scoundrel. I supervised the entry of all your points, and there is no way you added correctly. You’re a liar.”
Kallan spins happily, “What I am is a winner. I know how that hurts you, but that’s the truth.”
Maj glares at her, “I am not hurt, I am disgusted. I am never playing with you again unless you admit you cheated and admit you lost.”
Kallan stops spinning and brings her face right up to Maj’s. Her voice is filled with angry self-righteous confrontation, “I am not admitting anything. You’re just a bad loser. I won and that is the truth.”
I swipe my hands between them, “Alright, Kallan. Maybe you did win. Maybe that is the truth. There is no need to sound so hostile.”
Kallan turns to me, “Sometimes the truth is hostile, Mom. In fact? That’s my new motto . . . The truth is hostile.”
I laugh, “That’s your new motto? The truth is hostile?”
Kallan flaps her score sheet in the air between us and fires an imaginary gun at me with her free hand, “That right, Mom. Deal with it. Deal with the hostile truth.”
“Well then . . . in the interest of hostile truth,” I reach to take Kallan’s score sheet from her fingers, “Let me just take a look.”
Kallan grabs for the paper, “Ummmm . . . no need to do that, Mom. I can recheck my math myself.”
“No, I’ll do it. Since we’re being all hostile and truthful . . . I’ll do it.”
Kallan stands next to me as I add up her scores. I work some quick addition, “Hmmm . . . seems like you added incorrectly here on the top, babe. Which means your top score isn’t high enough to get you bonus points.”
Kallan is stunned. STUNNED!
She flaps her arms and does little gasps of disbelief, “Really? I cannot even believe that!”
I run my finger along the bottom section, “Something’s off down here as well.”
“Really? I cannot imagine how that happened.”
Maj snorts angrily.
In the end, Kallan loses to her sister by 78 points.
Maj dances around the room, “I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!”
Kallan sighs, “Tell Maj she should be a little more understanding of an honest mistake or two. Also? She is being all bad sporty. I am very disappointed in her.”
Maj races from the room, crowing about her victory.
Kallan turns to go as well, but I grab her hand, “Weird . . . you are so good at math in school. Strange a small bit of addition would trip you up like this.
Kallan eyes me thoughtfully, “I know, right? I am all disappointed in my inability to transfer school skills to the real world. You need to talk to my teacher about this.”
“Yes, but in the meantime? I need you to do some chores. Thirty minutes worth. I’ll set a timer, because I see that you are having trouble with counting. You can start with your bathroom.”
“That is outrageous! You cannot punish me like that for a math mistake!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am punishing you for being a liar and a cheater and a scoundrel. Scoundrels clean bathrooms.”
“I AM TIRED OF ALL THESE CHORES!”
“I know, right? You’d think you’d learn.”
“Are you suggesting this is my fault? This is all your doing, Mom.”
“Whatever, scoundrel child.”
Kallan glares at me in challenge, “I don’t think you are even allowed to punish me this way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you even have the proper punishing permits? I’m going to need to see your permits.”
“Listen, little girl. Only permit I need is your birth certificate. Let me get it out and we can read the fine print together. I assure you . . . I am granted all kinds of punishing power. All . . . kinds . . . of . . . power.”
We stare at each other for a moment as Kallan considers my words.
She turns and heads slowly up the stairs to her bathroom.
I call after her, “Oooooh . . . guess what? That was some hostile truth right there!”
She turns to stare at me, puzzled for a second.
“Your motto, remember?”
The truth is hostile.