One morning last week I was lying in bed, rather groggy, just before 5 a.m. Prince Charming gets up between 4:30 and 4:50 every morning, so he was downstairs. Then I heard this strange sound, sort of a jingling. I could tell it was coming up the stairs. Then I heard Prince Charming breathing. I cracked open an eye to see what was making the jingling noise. Just then he said, “You asked for ice in your water, right?”
Reader, you must understand that I drink a lot of water. I drink it all day long. I drink it before I go to bed. (Thank goodness I have a strong bladder.) But I never, EVER drink water in the morning before something else goes in my mouth. I cannot tolerate the taste of water on morning, yukky-mouth! I must eat or brush my teeth before drinking water, neither of which is going to happen by 5 a.m. on most mornings. This is a known fact in the household. The other thing to know is that I do not like ice water in my giant 34-oz. mug because it STAYS icy forever. I like cool water, but have sensitive teeth. Cold water is not a good thing.
My voice squeaked (because I barely had a voice) out, “Uhhh, no, but thank you!” (Who am I to chastise my husband at 5 a.m. for bringing me ice water?)
Apparently Prince Charming had dreamed that I had asked for ice water. This is strange because he never remembers his dreams. Now that I am thinking about it, maybe he remembers lots of them, but he mixes them up with reality!
This is what it looks like around my computer these days. (And a mug of water–icy or not.)
Last Wednesday morning found the three females of the house getting ready to go to school. It was in a more relaxed manner than normal for a Wednesday because the oldest female was sick enough that she decided she would not be teaching art that day. (This has nothing to do with this story, but I must tell you that I am NOT the type to cop out on something like that. But Wednesdays are non-stop for me from 5 a.m. – 9 p.m. with minimum 3 different “jobs” or activities, and art is the most draining of all. I knew I would not last in a functioning manner until the end of the day, so something had to go. I have more flexibility with art that the other things.)
I was upstairs herding the girls when I realized an altercation was in process regarding an Ariel music box belonging to Chic (purchased IN Disneyland on Chic’s 5-year-birthday-trip) which Chicklet had apparently broken. This is not the first incident in which Chicklet assumed ownership of anything that suited her and somehow altered it. Thankfully, it was something that was easy to fix, but this did not excuse Chicklet’s behavior, so it was time for punishment for her crime.
Me: “Chicklet, you know we do not play with anyone’s toys unless they are here, we ask and they allow it.”
Chicklet (meekly): “I know.”
Me: “Do you want to throw away some of your toys or get a ‘spank?'”
Chicklet: “Throw away one of my toys.”
Me: “Go get something. But I will decide if it is eligible.”
Chicklet ran off and brought back a Polly she had gotten from McDonald’s. NOT eligible! I told her that she needed to find something else. But she could still choose the “spank.” She preferred to throw away toys, so she ran down the hall again.
Chic (with worry and concern all over her face): “A spank would be better!”
Me: “I know, but she does not think so.”
So Chic ran down the hall and commenced to tell Chicklet all the merits of getting a quick spank vs. throwing out toys FOREVER! Chicklet was not moved. The discussion lasted quite some time. She returned with another Polly to add to the pile. She did not even cry. In fact, she skipped away.
Maybe I need to think of some other punishment.