Heptadecagon

We haven't had a good old laugh around here in a while, especially when it comes to Melinaisms, because you know, as kids get older, they get less funny. (Don't believe me, just wait until your kids are beyond the age of 11.) Well, the other day, despite the fact that the kids have been out of school since May 19 (I know, can you believe that?), Melina decided to tell me about a story she heard at school. Melina:  Ava told me-- Me: Ava your cousin? Melina: No, Ava at school. She told me that Lauren wasn't at school one day because her brother tooted on her pillow and she slept on it and she didn't know and so the gases got into her eye and she got pink eye. Me: Oh. Pink eye from the gas? Melina: Yes. She recounted that story with a completely straight face, as if she believed it. And I really think she did.

I love when Melina tells stories. She includes details about the setting, many of which a true writer would be proud. She sets up the scene, makes sure the listener is engaged in listening, and then, with that flourish of her hands that can only belong to Melina, begins to tell the story. The only problem is, she doesn't always get the story right. Like the other day, when she closed the story with, "And then she died of natural resources." I guess I know she's at least paying attention and learning something at school.

We've had a very tiring few weeks around here. Melina has been going to bed too late and getting up too early. She's been a trooper, but the fatigue is wearing on her. She walks around like a zombie at times. Other times, she yawns incessantly. And her ability to be happy-happy-joy-joy all the time is, well, at an all-time low. Last night, she attempted to round the kids up for dinner. (Melina does this sort of thing regularly. She is a rule follower, and when I say it's time for dinner, she makes sure that everyone does their job in setting the table and also that they come to the table to eat.) The girls had just come back from an overnight STEM camp and Aaron was showing them what he'd built on Minecraft. I had told the kids that dinner and a movie would be fine, but that they needed to choose the movie before dinner made it onto the table. Melina tried, oh how she tried, to get those kids moving. But they were slow to do anything that she said. Finally, she shuf...

Melina knows the correct name for most things. However, she doesn't always get it right when she tries to speak of those things: 1. We have an old Pillsbury Doughboy (it was mine when I was little). She won't admit that title is truly his name. To her, he is The Frosting Boy . 2. Yesterday, Melina was watching The Magic School Bus . It was an episode about the Rain Forest. She saw a parrot and yelled, "Carrot!" 3. Today, we were making some elbow noodles. Sometimes we call them moon noodles, since they are crescent shaped. She looked up at me and said, "Mom, when are those arm noodles going to be done?" I politely informed her that yes, her elbow was a part of her arm, but the noodles go by the name of elbows.