Things went south while clipping nails and being read to by Daddy in our bed. So he closed the book and suggested that maybe it was time for melatonin and bed. We’d tried 0.5 mg the night before school and it had worked beautifully. But Natalie hates the taste. So when Josh mentioned it, everything went to shit. She said taking it makes her feel like a dummybrat. She ducked under the covers. She started in on us about not taking it, and when we tried talking about it – even after saying she didn’t have to take it tonight – she told us, Guys: If you don’t stop talking about it, there will be consequences. Five consequences.
One: No laying down with her tonight.
Two: No lights-on time.
Three: She wouldn’t talk for the rest of the night.
Four: She would only say one sentence a minute at school.
Five: Not 35 activities at her birthday sleepover this weekend, but 33 – no water balloon fights and *maybe* no cake decorating.
After she left to get pajamas, Dad turned to me. “If you don’t stop talking about it, I’m not going to read that book I’ve been wanting to read.”
Natalie took a 54-word spelling test at school on Sept 4. They must be testing the kids to see in which spelling list group they belong. Natalie wonders how I think she did. I guess she did medium well. “So I’ll be in blue again?” She’s disappointed. She wants to be in orange, or yellow. Or red. “I’m just the toughest, hardest, loveliest word. Of the spelling.”
Me: “Did you wash your vulva and tushie?”
Natalie: “Can you call it ‘butt’?”
Natalie: “You called it vulva and tushie, and I prefer ‘butt’.”
Lightning makes Natalie cower. “Lightning bightning skightning!!” That sounds like lightning bites the sky, I said. “Lightning bites the sky out,” she agreed. “Lightning bites the joy out of me.”
Natalie used to find coins in parking lots, thanks to some overly indulgent grownups. Last night Daddy dropped a $10 bill, thinking he’d used a $1. She picked it up and was amazed, but perhaps not as stunned as I thought she should be. So this conversation ensued:
Me: “Do you REALIZE how much ten dollars is?”
Me: “How much?”
Natalie: “I don’t know.”
Then Daddy used his magic to turn the bill into a mere $1. Natalie was horrified. “You turned it into a one! That’s not good.” She made him turn it back. “I like it the way it is.”
I show Natalie a map and point out that Brazil looks about as big as the US. It’s huge! “Not as huge as the celebration of a seventh, I mean eighth, birthday.” I don’t know where she gets that kind of narcissism.
Natalie’s doing way-after-bedtime gymnastics again. She’s frustrated after flubbling a move. “Ughh. Messed up one of the best gymnastics routines in the world.” She corrects herself. “In this house. Which is a world.”
Perhaps we’ll go as characters from Gravity Falls this Halloween. Natalie will be Mabel; Daddy’s Soos; Perry can be Waddles…but who will be Dipper? I sigh. “I can be Dipper.” Natalie is grateful…or maybe just shocked. “Really? You’ll stand up for being a boy?”
Natalie’s been reading too many Mallory books. She’s wondering what will happen if uninvited guests appear at her party. “What if unexpected people come?” Then she realized that that means more presents.
Daddy: “It’s time for bed.”
Natalie: “No it’s not, it’s time for gymnastics.”
Daddy: “Dammit, she’s enthusiastic about something.”