23 March 2007

So, I'm sitting here, doing my usual waste-quite-a-lot-of-the-morning-before-actually-doing-anything routine and Freya comes halfway down the stairs and looks at me.

About half an hour ago I caught the girls upstairs in their playroom pouring water back and forth between various containers. (This time is was the sound of the water that gave them away - remember when you were little enough to be mystified every time your mother knew something naughty was going on, how did she always just know like that?)

I was overly-annoyed because Matilda and I had just had a conversation about appropriate places for water yesterday. So I sent them both for a time out on Matilda's bed and cleaned up the mess. I then returned to my spot on the couch until Freya slowly came halfway down the stairs - dragging her little green blanket - and turned to look at me.

She was silent for a minute, then she said, "I told Matilda you were so mad at her and I have to get out of her bed because you told her and you are so mad and you have to go to your bed right now! Humph!" and turned her face to the wall for dramatic effect.

I love when they can bring me back from being irritated without even trying. I mean, it was only water, right?


Annika said...

I think we have the same morning routine. Mine involves a lot of staring blankly at my computer screen.

nell h. mccabe said...

It seems to encourage a sense that doing nothing will somehow produce amazing results...later.