Kallan is all annoyed, “Maj put too many ice cubes in my glass.”
Mark sighs, “Kallan, you have to learn how to let the little stuff go. Worry about the big things. Ice cubes are little. Get over it.”
Maj snorts, “Good advice, Baby K. Let the little stuff go. You should write that down so you don’t forget.”
I snort, “Kallan should write it down? Maj, you should get that tattooed on your arm.”
She glares at me.
“Maj? In the car? You were not exactly letting the little things go, babe. Just saying.”
A little earlier, here we are in the car . . . a short ten minute drive to the library.
Snap.
Maj is pissed, “Oh my god. Kallan, stop snapping your gum. That is disgusting!”
Snap.
“OH MY GOD! STOP.”
Snap.
“Mother, bring this snapping to an end this instant. Control the K!”
I speak into the car, “OK, Kallan. You are driving your sister nuts. Stop snapping your gum.”
Kallan snaps one more time, “No problem, Mom.”
There is about 30 seconds of quiet.
Scritch.
“Kallan, that window sticker is important. Stop peeling it off.”
Scritch.
“Kallan, you are not allowed to simply IGNORE a sister who has good advice.”
Scritch.
“One day, we are going to resell this car, and the person who buys it is going to be all . . .what happened to the manufacturer’s sticker on the window? And then that person will have negotiating power. Mother, do something!”
Scritch.
“IT’S CALLED RESALE VALUE, KALLAN! If Mother was any sort of mother at all, she would be highly concerned.”
Scritch.
“Mother, control the K!”
I sigh, “OK, Kallan, stop scratching off the window sticker.”
Kallan giggles, “I just have to get this one loose bit . . . scritch . . . done.”
There is about 30 seconds of silence.
Thwap.
“For god’s sake, Kallan. This is not the time or place to practice snapping your fingers. Are you kidding me?”
Thwap.
“I am a reasonable person, but you need a pounding.”
Thwap.
“STOP IT!”
Thwap, thwap, thwap.
“AUGH! That noise is going into my head! It’s like you are trying to snap with fingers made of play-dough.”
Thwap.
“Mother, control the K! CONTROL THE K!”
I reach backward to hold Kallan’s hand in mine for a moment, “Geez, Kallan. Can’t you just sit quietly?”
“OK, Mom. How about if I car-dance quietly?”
I turn on the radio, “Yes, do that.”
Maj shrieks, “Oh my god, Kallan, you may not touch my hair!”
In the rear-view mirror, I see Kallan’s arms swaying back and forth above her head.
Sway.
“Stop touching my hair!”
Sway.
“Stop dancing your fingers into my hair!”
Sway.
“I am going to dance my fist right into your nose. Stop swaying into my hair!”
Sway.
“MOTHER, CONTROL THE K!”
I turn the music down, “OK, Kallan? You are being a pain. You so are. And Maj? You are overreacting to every single thing she does. Get a grip.”
Maj is incredulous, “How is any of this MY fault?”
Kallan leans forward, “I like this song. If I stop dancing, can I clap?”
“Nooooooo!”
I sigh, “This is a good clapping song. Yes, you may clap.”
Clap.
Maj sulks, “I hate this family.”
Clap clap.
“Seriously, Mother. It’s going right into my brain and echoing like poison.”
Clap clap clap.
“Fine, I am echo-poisoned. Make a note, Mother, so that you can explain this insanity to the doctors when I fall unconscious to the ground.”
Clap.
“I can’t stand it!”
Clap clap.
“MOTHER, UNCLAP THE K!”
And then we are parked.
The library was lovely.
And then we climb back in the car for the ten minute drive home.
“Listen, ladies. Let’s just turn the music loud and we’ll all sing along, OK? No arguing, no fighting. I’ll find a good song and we’ll just sing along.”
Kallan happily agrees, and Maj agrees cautiously, “OK, but make her sing the ACTUAL words to the songs, Mother. Tell her she can’t do her own versions.”
Kallan agrees.
Several songs play and we sing happily.
And then comes Jo-Jo’s song, Leave (Get Out)
We have heard this song a bazillion times, and we know all the words.
Kallan starts singing her own lyrics, and I turn to tell her to stop, but I see that Maj is laughing hysterically.
So I turn the radio up.
The song is about a girl who is sitting waiting for her boyfriend to get home so she can confront him with the evidence of his lying cheating ways and tell him to get out of her life for good.
Kallan plays the role of the boyfriend (who does not actually speak in the radio version), and she brings her voice deep and stupid and loud to voice her lyrics.
So JoJo sings . . .
get out . . . right now
it’s the end of you and me
it’s too late . . . and I can’t wait for you to be gone
cause I know about her
and I wonder how I bought all the lies
you said that you would treat me right
but you were just a waste of time
And here it is with Kallan’s additions (which are sometimes imposed right over the lyrics, but I can’t really capture that).
So imagine . . .
get out (Huh?) right now (Baby, you talking to me?)
it’s the end of you and me (What are you trying to say?)
it’s too late (Wait, what?) and I can’t wait for you to be gone (Just talk, baby. Tell me what you want.)
cause I know about her (Girl, that was my cousin. No lie.)
and I wonder how I bought all the lies (See, you never just communicate)
you said that you would treat me right (Was there something you wanted to tell me?)
but you were just a waste of time (We got any sandwich meat left?)get out (Talk to me, baby) right now (I can’t keep guessing at your meaning)
it’s the end of you and me (See, right there. You are unclear, baby.)
it’s too late (Wait, what?) and I can’t wait for you to be gone (I am not a mind reader)
cause I know about her (Girl, that was my sister! No lie.)
and I wonder how I bought all the lies (Did I not just tell you I was not lying?)
you said that you would treat me right (So let me get this straight . . . you did not make dinner?)
but you were just a waste of time (Fine. I will order a pizza)
The song ends.
Maj takes a deep breath, “Sometimes, Kallan? Sometimes, you are just awesome.”
Kallan giggles, “The K thanks you.”
And we’re home.
Mark meets us at the door, “It’s almost time for dinner. Maj, could you get glasses and fill them with ice?”
And that’s where you came in.
Hee hee!
Hahaha. I have nothing else but much laughter.
That will do just fine.
Thank you.
“It’s called resale value?”
Your kids crack me up. Too damn smart for their own good. Mix that with your and Mark’s apparent wit? I feel a teensy bit sorry for their husbands. At least they won’t get suckered in by being naive.
Raising strong, smart women. Go you two! :)
Brandon -
The men who marry Maj and Kallan had better be either very strong or very weak.
Because any regular sort of man will be crushed beneath their feet.
I am sort of looking forward to a bit of crushing before Maj and Kallan make their final choices.
Hee hee!
Kris
Hunny, you say that like our future son in laws stand a chance… Caylin and Lexi are going to eat them alive ;)
Snort!
Yes, I imagine your daughters must be quite strong and smart themselves.
Yay for the future men-crushing!
Hush, Brandon.
smart-asses maybe? they can’t help that either…look at who their Dad is….hush,Brandon.
I do like this power to make Brandon hush!
That’s fabulous.
Too funny! My sister and I used to make up words like that or change the lyrics or create dance moves that mimicked the song (Motley Crue’s “Girl Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” was a classic.)
Kallan is endlessly making up songs.
She made up an AWESOME song the other day on the spur of the moment.
But I can’t share that song until the related news story develops.
Her version has the potential to be very very bad.
Ahem.
Me
Love how you played with the sequence.
Sandwich meat? LOL.
Thank you, Michael!
I love when people notice stuff.
I love the people who notice stuff.
Thank you.
Me
AHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh man. It is good that you immortalize the peaceable appreciative moments to remind these sisters why they will someday be happy to have eachother.
But I do this with my brother – stop that, stop this, you’re doing that, I’m going to hit you if you continue it, seriously that’s mine, give it back, don’t sit there, CHANGE EVERYTHING.
I have since adopted the mantra, with brothers and annoying roommates and subway riders and coworkers alike, that if I can make it go away with any of the following: sunglasses, headphones, earplugs or a book/magazine, I won’t say anything.
But then there is very little resale value in my office. I have tried.
Maj has yet to adopt your sensible mantra.
She would prefer that the entire world just adapt to accommodate her needs.
Starting with her sister.
Maj’s plan is so far not going that well.
Mark and I are looking into that tattoo.
Snort!
Oh, oh, oh, love, Love LOVE this! You have rendered me gibbering with laughter. You have forced me to shout my love in ALL CAPS. Pants have been peed in. Those girls! (And I mostly love how much you love and appreciate them and their high entertainment value.)
Gibbering with laughter?
Swoon!
Love love love that.
Thank you!
ha! That there? What Kallan did with the song? My little brother and I totally do that.
That makes me all smily inside.
Such fun between siblings, especially sisters!
So funny . . . because Maj never does this unless she buys into one of Kallan’s songs. Maj (like me) always likes the correct lyrics. It never occurs to us that something better might be out there.
Kallan is awesome.
Like an alien, sometimes.
I do not know where she came from.
But she is awesome.
I’m the oldest of 5 girls.
Conversations a lot like this were had growing up. Hourly. And sometimes… ended with black eyes, or hair pulling. We were vicious! And even though I am the oldest I didn’t always win…okay I never won, my sister Amy was bigger than me and could throw a pretty mean right hook.
No wonder my Daddy is bald ;)
Brandi -
Hey, you! Have you commented before? Welcome!
We try to keep the actual physical violence to a minimum, but the words?
The fighting words are endless.
Entertaining.
But endless.
And just for the record? Mark and I still have full heads of hair.
Hee hee!
Nope haven’t commented before, but I’ve read a lot ;)
I wish I could say we kept the physical to a minimum but when you multiply PMS x5, it’s not pretty!
We do sometimes have poking and pinching and shoving.
And then I send them to their rooms for lengthy periods of time.
So mostly?
Words.
Lots.
And I am so glad you are a commenter now!
That’s awesome.
Me
I love how your girls talk… ‘resale value’… are you sure she’s only 11?
She is in fact 12 now.
As of May 11th.
And she has talked like this forever.
Really.
Kallan is a lyrical genius!
She just cracks me up.
Kallan is awesome.
She totally cracks me up.
HILARIOUS! Sandwich meat and pizza! Girl, that was my cousin/ sister! Where does she get all that?
I love that Maj calls Kallan Baby K when wants to annoy her. I get that she doesn’t get annoyed easily though. As she’s too busy doing the annoying. Heh.
How do you not fall over laughing every day?
Alison -
Kallan and Maj are quite awesome together, even when they are driving each other insane.
I laugh every day. They drive me nuts. But I laugh every day.
I love this life of mine.
Thank you for laughing with me!
Kris
Oh my gosh this is HILARIOUS!!! Good luck when they get older! ;)
I know, right?
Poor me.
Snort!
Kris,
I think the CIA needs you.
Because there is no device in the universe that can capture the running dialogue, body movements and sister-sticker-picking, while also piloting a minivan (which now has dramatically lower resale value).
So either you are a stenographer/pilot/driver, or you tape everything and transcribe at the speed of light, or you have a photographic memory, or you, uhm, embellish, not there is anything wrong with that.
BTW, the whole piece just killed me. And it made me wonder.
When you and the girls are getting in the car for a 10 minute drive, are you both excited about the creative interplay likely between sisters, and somewhat unsettled about the fingernails-on-the-chalkboard/chewing-aluminum-foil/dental-drill-in-your-brain-noise that you are about to enjoy in a time warp that could possibly last forever?
In any case, once again, Kris, I so enjoyed your pain.
And special K? The girl needs her own blog.
What?
Or maybe recording label.
Bill
Bill -
Hey, sassy you. We drove to the library, where I looked for a book called “Feel the Fear And Do it Anyway.” That book was checked out. Bummer.
So I grabbed a few books from the “New Releases” shelf and sat down. Pulled out my iPhone and tapped in all of the details that I could remember of our ten minute trip to the library. Helped the girls pick out books.
Headed home.
Kallan sang.
I remembered some of it, but at dinner?
I asked her to do her version again as I sang the main chorus.
So then I had it all.
Embellish? I don’t need to embellish.
There were even ice cubes incorrectly placed in glasses.
So there.
Also?
I love you.
So there again.
Me
I literally laughed out loud.
I’m still giggling.
Yay!
That’s awesome.
Thank you.
Right now my Mother is saying “No! Wait – I wished that car behaviour on MY 2 kids…. how did that wish go astray to this Kris person?!?!”
My sister and I drove my mother insane on any kind of car drive – short, long or somewhere in between. She used to wish us “kids just like you” all the time. Part of me thinks that’s why my sister has no children – she didn’t want to take any risk! Snort!
I must say K – is insanely clever… evilly so… as a sister, I wish I had her power when I was younger. As the one driven insane by a younger sister I’m just glad Nell didn’t know about car dancing then!
M
Oh, Mishelle, clever or not, ALL little sisters are insanely evil. (Not that I know from…ahem…experience or anything…)
And Kris?
CONTROL THE K! I can’t wait for my kids to start talking in phrases like this. They’re 5, 3, and 1 right now. Mostly we still get “he’s touching the baby! She’s looking at me! He scared the birds out of that field over there with his annoying song!” I can’t wait to be able to report more exciting car talk!
Elizabeth -
We never just have a regular quiet drive in the car.
Sigh.
But the noise and the chaos?
It’s really quite fabulous . . . you will love it.
You’ll see.
Yay!
Me
Mishelle -
I love the notion that some free-floating hex of your mother’s somehow landed on my head instead of yours. Although, honestly? These girls are way big fun . . . even with all of their insanity.
Way big fun.
But yes.
Kallan is a button-pusher extraordinaire.
And Maj can’t stand it.
Snort!
Me
Sometimes my 2 drive me beyond insanity and yet I love ‘em. I expect the grey hair I have has their name on them but love ‘em and can’t imagine life without them.
Tho some days – 10 mins of silence, without one ordering the other around, would be nice.
M
Yes, there are days when a ten minute drive with the girls just sitting quietly would be lovely.
In fact, there have been times when I park the car and just sink my head into the steering wheel, “Why? Why can’t you guys ever just get along?”
They always look at me disbelievingly, “This is how we always are!”
Sigh.
Funny, though.