Not a particularly eventful week this time around. We’ve been having a fair number of things delivered to the new house to fill in some of the blank corners, nearly all of those things arriving in brown cardboard boxes that it is, for some reason, my responsibility alone to open. I’ve developed a kind of game with Sam where I ask what she thinks is in the boxes as I open them. Her invariable answer is “Toys! Toys for Sammy!” even though the unearthed contents of the cardboard tombs have yet turned out to be so. Still, she’s optimistic, and you’ve got to appreciate that.
And here are some pictures.
Power problems have continued through the week, viz a viz Sam’s attempt to seize it at inappropriate times. As I’ve mentioned before, she has delighted in testing whatever boundaries present themselves and seems intent on instigating a one-person junta whenever we let our guard down. Still, we remain strong in the face of these rebellions.
For example, the other night at the dinner table (and isn’t it so quaint that I say things like “at the dinner table?”) Sam noticed that her blanket had gone missing. Probably on account of her having dropped it in the basement when she noticed some breakable thing I’d accidentally left out. After an initial verbal inquiry as to the blanket’s location was made with unsatisfactory results (i.e., it didn’t magically appear when she spoke its name), Sam gave an airy wave of her hand and announced “Mommy wants to go get it” like the world’s most ineffective Jedi. When Mommy signaled that no, in fact, she did not intend to get up from dinner to go get it, Sam tried the other branch of her family tree. When I followed up that request with a similar denial, Sam tried screaming and crying, the implication that the blanket’s absence was causing some kind of psychological and probably physical scarring and that we should remedy this immediately if we loved her. This got me moving, but with the announcement that she was in for a time out. Next thing I know she’s halfway down the basement stairs, shouting “No I get it!” as she went. She returned a moment later, dry eyed and blanket in hand as if nothing had happened.
I plan on seeing if I can get similar results next time someone tries to delegate unwanted work to me in a staff meeting. Wish me luck.
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