Jason had the kids this weekend, but I didn’t get to see them until Sunday.
We get back from Church, then they arrive from Church with their Grandma (Jason’s Mom), and proceed to attack Jason.
Grabbing his legs, trying to pull him down, giggling madly, evil gleams in their beady innocent eyes. Scary, I tell you and they just came from CHURCH. Well, along with Sunday school snacks, which could include large doses of popcorn, skittles, and possibly liquid sugar shots? Yeah, I think that’s what it was.
Sydney was at home, she wasn’t able to go to Church, since she went to her boyfriends races the night before, and they ended late. I found out via Facebook she had a terrible night and possibly her boyfriend was cheating on her? What?!?! Her Dad even called me, once he got her update, to find out what was going on.
Oh my, is this how we parent? Of course back in my parents day, they had no CLUE what was going on. Unless you count the wailing sounds from my room, or Air Supply blaring from the speakers. I am grateful for Facebook and Twitter – I get to keep in touch with my teen. I actually know what’s going on or when something is going on (well at least more so).
I decide to go get her (right away) and immediately take her for chocolate, and guy bashing, aka The Cure.
The kids were so busy playing, they didn’t want to pack into the car again. J’s oldest wanted to stay home and kill Dad play with Dad. The plan was..I would go get Sydney and we would eat lunch, trash the no good cheater catch up, polish off desert and be good as new to reunite with everyone.
I had my keys in hand, and was saying good-bye, when I feel a tug at my pants. I look down to see the Cheshire kid. You know the one? Face of an angel, twinkling eyes, playful charming smile….yeah that one….the one that gets you.
J’s youngest, Bridget
Bridget: I go wit choo. (cocks head smiling sweetly)
Me: You want to go with me? (I point to myself, look around at J in incredulous wonder – J shrugs)
Bridget: Yesth, I go wit CHOO. (pokes me with her little pudgy finger)
Me: Ooookay. (still looking for help, getting none)
Don’t get me wrong, she asks to go with me all the time – it just usually doesn’t work out. Plus, she can get moody when she is hungry or tired (it’s so cute, it’s just like Jason). We had talked about doing separate things with the kids, so he could have some one on one time with each of them. This seemed as good a time as any. It’s just so strange to see her away from her older sister Molly. With them only two years apart, they are very close, they even sleep in the same room. Plus, she had never left alone with me. She is a Daddy’s girl through and through.
Alrighty then, I grab her car seat and off we go to get Sydney. She is happy, beaming her mega-watt charm of a smile. I end up taking them both to a restaurant. She was so good. Never cried, wasn’t bored, picked out exactly what she wanted to eat, and ate it. No fuss at all. I love this kid!
I had chicken nuggets, but I didn’t like the sauce, so I asked for gravy. I get my gravy and the Cheshire kid promptly dips her fries in it. I was shocked! I said, “Did you just dip your fry in MY GRAVY?” I give her the scary eye.
An eruption of delighted giggles burst forth, not scared at all, as she continued to dip every fry, cackling gleefully each joust. I immediately picked up the phone and text Jason. My text read:
Your daughter is country! She is dipping her fries in my gravy.
Oh my sweet Lord, the Cheshire kid is sucking me in. She likes gravy with her fries, just like a good ole girl from Oklahoma. We finish with dessert and come to find out, Sydney’s boyfriend thing? False alarm. Something about a fortune cookie on Sorority girls, huh? Whatever THAT means. Heh!
Back we go hand in hand to the car, Sydney helps belt her in. She hasn’t even asked about Daddy, little stink. She finally does in the car. We head back with her all grins and charming endearment.
Later that afternoon, as Sydney and I are preparing to leave, after we shopped at Wal-Mart for FIVE Operation Christmas Child boxes, with two still hyper banshees kids. THEN, stuffed them to the gills packed all of them. If that wasn’t a work out, I don’t know what is.
Here she came, the Cheshire kid, with those big eyes, and that sweet little face turned up to me, arms reaching.
Bridget: I go wit choo.
Me: But baby, I’m going home. (lifting her into my arms)
Bridget: I not Baby! I Bridget! I go WIT choo.
Me: You want to come home with me? Where will you sleep? With Sydney or me?
Me: What about the closet? I can string you a hammock in the closet and you can live there.
Bridget: I go wit choo. (lays her silky head on my shoulder)
That little Cheshire kid. I’d take her home in a heartbeat. She has charmed me out of my mind, take a three year old home with me? What? It’s like I’m hypnotized! Nodding my head, picking her up. Goodness gracious!
Me: One day, you can come visit me at my house, OK?
Why do I get the feeling she is not going to forget that promise? What in the world am I getting myself into?
Oh, my heart.