The other day, I wrote of playing a board game with Maj.
Today, I am writing of playing a board game with Kallan . . . although you will be forgiven if this is not apparent.
I play a card.
“Mom, I need to read you my story about what I would do if I won a million dollars and then you have to critique it which is totally pointless because my stories are always perfection but my teacher apparently wants to hear of this perfection from someone who is not me although since you are my mother you should just sign off on the perfection because you do have to live with me and I am genetically grudgy . . . ready?”
“Carry on, girl of grudge genes.”
“OK.” Kallan clears her throat and reads me a fabulous story of shopping and travel and meeting famous people and buying trampolines and having a pet monkey and hiring slave-servants and ordering those slave-servants to put a TV and a refrigerator in her bedroom and then go to the store to buy her candy.
“Wait . . . are these slave-servants your daddy and I?”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah . . . hand me that evaluation form.” I read the first question aloud, “Did your child include all the important details in the story? Please make note of the things that have been left out that you feel are necessary to complete the story.”
Kallan waves her hands, “OK, I know exactly what you are going to say. You are going to say Hey, where’s Maj in this story? What happened to your sister Maj? But if you listened carefully, right at the beginning I said that my older sister was taking a nap.”
“So in your fantasy version of winning a million dollars, Maj just naps?”
“Well, I was going to say that she was in a mysterious coma, but I know my teacher well enough to know that a sister-coma would lead to frowny questions, so I made her nap.”
“Huh.”
“Here’s the thing, Mom. If I put Maj in the story, the whole story becomes about Maj, because can you imagine all the things she would be screaming if I had a million dollars?”
“True.”
Kallan takes a deep breath, “I’ll be Maj . . . ready?”
“Ready.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Kallan is not old enough to spend money on whatever she wants . . . where are the lottery authorities? No way Kallan is old enough to have entered this contest. I must speak with the lottery authorities! Really, Kallan? The mall? That’s all you can think to do with a million dollars? The mall? SOMEONE STOP THIS GIRL BEFORE SHE EXPLODES IN SLUT GLITTER! All the money in the world does not mean that you should slut-sparkle . . . YOU ARE TEN YEARS OLD AND IN DESPERATE NEED OF PARENTING! I will tie you to the tree in the back yard before I let you go to Egypt, so make a note. I don’t care if her name is Katy Perry YOU TOUCHED HER AND HAND SANITIZER IS REQUIRED! No, I will not pet the monkey and if this monkey poos in my room there will be heck to pay. HECK, I tell you . . . the kind with Ls. The monkey’s name is Gertrude? THAT MAKES NO SENSE! Are you kidding me? You cannot buy a trampoline . . . Daddy would never let you get a trampoline remember that story he told us about his friend who has a metal plate in his head because he landed wrong on a trampoline? IS THAT YOUR FANTASY, KALLAN? YOU WANT A METAL PLATE IN YOUR HEAD? OK, wait . . . Mother and Daddy are slaves now? Slaves who only do what YOU want? I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! You get a TV? You get a refrigerator? You get candy? DO YOU WANT ALL OF YOUR TEETH TO FALL OUT OF YOUR HEAD AND ALSO DO YOU WANT TO BE HUGE AND FAT FROM EATING ALL THE TREATS YOU WILL HIDE IN THAT REFRIGERATOR AND A TV IN YOUR ROOM IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN ON MY WATCH. Just try it, Kallan . . . WIFE SWAP? . . . You are not allowed to watch WIFE SWAP! Oh my god. STOP EATING ICE CREAM ON THE TRAMPOLINE, YOU ARE MAKING THE MONKEY DIZZY!”
I cannot stop giggling, “You do an awesome impression of your sister, babe.”
Kallan nods, “But do you see how she has a tendency to take over the story? I didn’t want to deal with any of that, so I just said Maj was napping.”
“She’s not that bad.”
“She so is. She tells on everything I do. Everything.”
“She doesn’t tell on you for everything.”
“Yes, Mom. Yes, she does.”
Maj appears in that moment with a notebook in her hand, “Mother, is this a good time for me to speak my mind on some issues that need addressing?”
I sigh, “If I say that this is a bad time, will you walk away without speaking?”
“You have been Mother long enough to know your older daughter better than that, Mother.”
“Fine. Go ahead.”
Maj consults her notebook, “At approximately 9:02 and 14 seconds pm last night, I heard sounds I associated with Kallan brushing her teeth. At exactly 9:03 and zero seconds pm, these sounds ended. A visit to the bathroom revealed a dry toothbrush and no wafting scent of toothpaste. At exactly 9:13 and 12 seconds, and lasting for approximately 26 seconds, there was unexplained wandering in the hallway despite the fact that the wanderer should have been in her room. At exactly 9:17, Kallan sang loudly enough for me to hear all of the lyrics to a song she knows I hate and will not name here. This singing continued until about 9:40 and 37 seconds pm, despite my pleas for her to stop. At 9:42 and unknown seconds pm, Kallan used the bathroom and flushed, but I heard no evidence of hand-washing following this visit . . . a serious concern, because the length of this visit suggested that more than urine was involved.”
Kallan and I are silent through this recital, but as Maj snaps her notebook shut, Kallan looks at me with raised I-told-you-so eyebrows, “You see? This is why she needs to be unconscious when I am a millionaire.”
I grab a pen and fill in Kallan’s story evaluation form, “Personally, Kallan? I would go with the coma thing . . . I’ll back you up.”
“WAIT. DID I JUST HEAR THE TWO OF YOU COMA-PLOTTING ME?”
I hand the form to Kallan and turn to Maj, “Maj, about the issues you need addressed? When I said to save up your complaints and write them down, this is not what I imagined.”
Maj opens the notebook and scribbles a few notes, “Dear Diary, In case of a coma . . . hunt my mother and sister down because they are as guilty as heck with double Ls. Hint . . . look in Egypt. They’ll be the ones with a monkey.”
Kallan lays down a triumphant card, “I win!”
Damn it.
