Monday, August 16, 2010
Greta, as usual, was throwing out some very broad hints that she was desperately in need of a snack. I, being the perceptive aunt that I am, provided her with a Slim Jim. It was one of the long ones, so I only pealed the wrapper back halfway. She munched for a minute or two, then handed the Slim Jim back to me to peal the rest of the way. "Janie, can you make it naked for me?" She asked.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Explanation
Due to problems that were insuperable to my limited blogging skills, I had to delete my previous 'Small Folks' blog and replace it with this one. That is the reason why all of my followers have mysteriously disappeared.:) I am sorry about this... I wish that I was more blog savvy!
Greta
Greta and I were wrestling on the couch when Greta started to pull on my hand. "Are you trying to pull me off the couch?" I asked. "Yes," Greta replied, "I will pull you off of the couch, and that will make it easier for you to get back on."
Another Greta-ism
Mom was talking to Candice on the phone and I was sitting around listening to Greta's voice in the background. Greta was searching for her dolly, Cauliflower. Finally she said, "I can't find my dolly. The hunters must have shot her."
Peanut Butter Jewly
Bessie is a diplomat. Rarely have I known her to make an absolute refusal. Instead, she will give suggestions for a more favorable outcome. She is also what our family calls a 'carbohydrate girl'. She will eat vast quantities of crackers or biscuits.... or peanut butter jewly sandwiches (that is what she used to call them).
One day I am over at Bessie's house, helping out after the birth of her little sister. For supper, Carrie asks me to fix a pan of liver. Now I, personally, am not overly fond of liver, and I was even less fond of it when I was Bessie's age. So, I can surmise what Bessie is thinking when I pull the pan of liver out of the oven and set it on the table. But Bessie has learned that one does not get ahead by complaining. Instead, she sweetly suggests, "we could have peanut butter jewly."
One day I am over at Bessie's house, helping out after the birth of her little sister. For supper, Carrie asks me to fix a pan of liver. Now I, personally, am not overly fond of liver, and I was even less fond of it when I was Bessie's age. So, I can surmise what Bessie is thinking when I pull the pan of liver out of the oven and set it on the table. But Bessie has learned that one does not get ahead by complaining. Instead, she sweetly suggests, "we could have peanut butter jewly."
Kiddos in Shawls
Aster and Greta 'dressed up like princesses' using my large collection Eastern scarves.
I overheard Greta addressing the following to herself: "I look like Jesus, but I'm not, I'm Maid Marian. I'm not Jesus."
I overheard Greta addressing the following to herself: "I look like Jesus, but I'm not, I'm Maid Marian. I'm not Jesus."
Candy Theif
I've logged on to relate a story that Joel told me yesterday.
Greta is at the store, gratefully receiving a lollipop from the doting cashier. Then she asks for another sucker. "I want to share with Daddy." She says. The cashier, obviously impressed by Greta's generosity, gives her a second piece of candy.
Greta runs over to Daddy saying, "I'm gonna share my sucker with you." She receives her mead of thanks, and the goody is deposited in Daddy's pocket.
Soon, Greta's candy is all gone. Joel hears her crunching the last fragments as he bends over to get a closer look at his merchandise. Then, a little hand reaches into his pocket and retrieves his lollipop.
"What are you doing?" Joel enquires.
"I'm gonna borrow your sucker for a minute." Is Greta's quick reply.
Greta is at the store, gratefully receiving a lollipop from the doting cashier. Then she asks for another sucker. "I want to share with Daddy." She says. The cashier, obviously impressed by Greta's generosity, gives her a second piece of candy.
Greta runs over to Daddy saying, "I'm gonna share my sucker with you." She receives her mead of thanks, and the goody is deposited in Daddy's pocket.
Soon, Greta's candy is all gone. Joel hears her crunching the last fragments as he bends over to get a closer look at his merchandise. Then, a little hand reaches into his pocket and retrieves his lollipop.
"What are you doing?" Joel enquires.
"I'm gonna borrow your sucker for a minute." Is Greta's quick reply.
T-Rex
One day, Tell was growling and stomping as he walked around our house.
Me: What are you doing, Tell?
Tell: I'm being a T-Rex.
At which point he goes outside to play. When he re-enters the house, half and hour later, he is till stomping and growling.
Me: Tell, are you still being a T-Rex?
Tell: No. Now I'm being a Coffee Rex.
Me: What are you doing, Tell?
Tell: I'm being a T-Rex.
At which point he goes outside to play. When he re-enters the house, half and hour later, he is till stomping and growling.
Me: Tell, are you still being a T-Rex?
Tell: No. Now I'm being a Coffee Rex.
Chocolate
Greta loves food. The first question out of her mouth when she walks through our door is usually, "Grandma, can I have a snack?" She knows, of course, that Grandma and Aunt Janie are willing to take pity on her starving condition and feed her on crackers and apples and, the greatest delight of all, chocolate. Yes, Greta loves her food, but she idolizes her chocolate.
One day, Greta is looking out of the window at the rain. She turns to me and says, "It's raining, and it's pouring. The pour gets stuck to the rain and falls down with it, and then we mix it up
One day, Greta is looking out of the window at the rain. She turns to me and says, "It's raining, and it's pouring. The pour gets stuck to the rain and falls down with it, and then we mix it up
Let Sleeping Aunts Lie
Please take note of the fact that this story has been slightly embellished for added humor.
The evening started out uneventfully enough. Greta and Aster settled themselves into the hide-a-bed in my room, and I went to my own bed thinking ‘this is going to be an uneventful night.’ Little did I know!
12:00 am.
Aster wakes me from a sound slumber by tickling my back.
Me (sleepily): What is it, Aster?
Aster (wide awake): I can’t sleep. Can you read me a story?
Me: It’s midnight. I am NOT going to turn on the lights and read you a story.
Aster (helpfully): We won’t wake anyone up if we go downstairs.
Me (in an authoritative aunt voice): No. Go back to bed.
12:30 am.
Aster comes and wakes me in the same manner as before.
Me (beginning to think that this might be a long night): What is it now?
Aster: I still can’t sleep.
Me (trying to think of the simplest option): Can you sleep on the floor?
Aster: No.
Me (trying to think of the next simplest option): Can you sleep with me?
Aster: Yes.
Aster climbs in bed with me, and we go peacefully back to sleep.
1:30 am.
I wake up and discover that Aster has made a cocoon of herself using all of the covers. I try to extricate enough of them to cover myself without waking her up. I am unsuccessful.
Aster: What time is it?
Me (now firmly convinced that it’s going to be a night of unusual length): 1:30
Aster: I’m thirsty. Can you get me a drink?
I have serious thoughts of telling her that she’s a big girl and can get her own drink, but conclude that it is probably easier to comply with her demands. Aster is a very sweet girl, but there are some things that she can be rather stubborn about. The drink is duly fetched, and we are once more tucked into bed.
3:00 am.
I awake and hear rain pouring down outside. I get up to shut the windows and climb back in bed just in time for Aster to wake up.
Aster: Velvet Petals’ windows are open. (Velvet Petals is Aster’s rabbit that she brought up to my house for the duration of her stay. She had put him in the unfinished part of the house for the night, and left the windows open so that he would stay cool).
Me (desperately hoping that I don’t have to get out of bed again): You’d better go close them, then.
Aster: I can’t go downstairs in the dark.
Me (clutching at the last straw): But you’re a big girl…
My voice trails off; I realize that I am beaten. So, I climb reluctantly back out of bed. We go downstairs and shut the windows, and then get back under the covers.
Aster: I’m not sleepy anymore. Can’t we just get up?
Me (once again in my authoritative aunt voice): No.
3:30am.
I have just started to doze off when Greta wakes up, crying for her mommy. I climb in bed with her, and she promptly goes back to sleep. I now have two options.
1. I can try to wrestle Aster back to her side of my bed, or 2. I can try to catch a few winks on the hard side of the hide-a-bed with Greta’s elbow in my ribs. I am dog tired, and reluctant to get up again, so I opt for number 2 and resign myself to my fate.
The evening started out uneventfully enough. Greta and Aster settled themselves into the hide-a-bed in my room, and I went to my own bed thinking ‘this is going to be an uneventful night.’ Little did I know!
12:00 am.
Aster wakes me from a sound slumber by tickling my back.
Me (sleepily): What is it, Aster?
Aster (wide awake): I can’t sleep. Can you read me a story?
Me: It’s midnight. I am NOT going to turn on the lights and read you a story.
Aster (helpfully): We won’t wake anyone up if we go downstairs.
Me (in an authoritative aunt voice): No. Go back to bed.
12:30 am.
Aster comes and wakes me in the same manner as before.
Me (beginning to think that this might be a long night): What is it now?
Aster: I still can’t sleep.
Me (trying to think of the simplest option): Can you sleep on the floor?
Aster: No.
Me (trying to think of the next simplest option): Can you sleep with me?
Aster: Yes.
Aster climbs in bed with me, and we go peacefully back to sleep.
1:30 am.
I wake up and discover that Aster has made a cocoon of herself using all of the covers. I try to extricate enough of them to cover myself without waking her up. I am unsuccessful.
Aster: What time is it?
Me (now firmly convinced that it’s going to be a night of unusual length): 1:30
Aster: I’m thirsty. Can you get me a drink?
I have serious thoughts of telling her that she’s a big girl and can get her own drink, but conclude that it is probably easier to comply with her demands. Aster is a very sweet girl, but there are some things that she can be rather stubborn about. The drink is duly fetched, and we are once more tucked into bed.
3:00 am.
I awake and hear rain pouring down outside. I get up to shut the windows and climb back in bed just in time for Aster to wake up.
Aster: Velvet Petals’ windows are open. (Velvet Petals is Aster’s rabbit that she brought up to my house for the duration of her stay. She had put him in the unfinished part of the house for the night, and left the windows open so that he would stay cool).
Me (desperately hoping that I don’t have to get out of bed again): You’d better go close them, then.
Aster: I can’t go downstairs in the dark.
Me (clutching at the last straw): But you’re a big girl…
My voice trails off; I realize that I am beaten. So, I climb reluctantly back out of bed. We go downstairs and shut the windows, and then get back under the covers.
Aster: I’m not sleepy anymore. Can’t we just get up?
Me (once again in my authoritative aunt voice): No.
3:30am.
I have just started to doze off when Greta wakes up, crying for her mommy. I climb in bed with her, and she promptly goes back to sleep. I now have two options.
1. I can try to wrestle Aster back to her side of my bed, or 2. I can try to catch a few winks on the hard side of the hide-a-bed with Greta’s elbow in my ribs. I am dog tired, and reluctant to get up again, so I opt for number 2 and resign myself to my fate.
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