While visiting family in Idaho, Sadie wanted a cookie, but I was too tired to get her one. Bill's aunt kindly offered to get her one. Sadie didn't really know her, so she kind of freaked out for a second, shaking her head vehemently, "I wike you, Mommy. You're a better guy." (She did take the cookie and later admitted that Bill's aunt was nice.)
I would have been a horrible twelve year old boy. I hate fire and blowing things up. Fireworks stress me out with little kids around. I am not very fun on the Fourth of July, and I am not looking forward to Pioneer Day, which means even more fireworks in Utah.
Avery: Sadie likes it way better when you sing her songs at bedtime. She doesn't really want me to do it. Or Daddy.
Me: Oh, she still likes it when you sing to her.
Avery: Not that much. The songs sound a little better when you sing. I think it's because of your voice or something.
We had a little miracle yesterday. I was singing to Sadie, and Avery joined in. Avery actually matched my pitch on at least half of the notes! She usually is so off that it seems impossible that anyone could really, without trying hard, be that far off pitch. It was nice to only cringe a few times.
Our older three kids got invited to a swimming party this evening. Bill dropped them off and came home. Over an hour later, he said, "I think we should probably run over to the party." I asked why he wanted to go there. It's not like he's what anyone would call a social person. "It would probably be good if we brought them some towels. I just realized that none of them remembered to bring one." We got there a few minutes later. My friend said that she had let Carter borrow a towel because he was shivering, and he couldn't go back in the water because the waterproof bandages on his finger had fallen off.
I was so glad when I heard that he wouldn't need stitches on his finger that he sliced open on a rusty saw while he was away from home. Now, I am frustrated that he didn't get stitches or glue on his finger because it is still split open and isn't healing well after almost two weeks! It's not infected, but it's just not closing up very well.
Avery made some homemade ink. She brought it to the couch to show my sister, who was visiting today. She left it there, and less than a minute later, my five year old nephew found the ink and opened the container, splattering the couch and himself with a dark brown staining ink. He started screaming. I took him to wash his hands while my sister worked on the couch. He was still screaming as I washed his hands. I told him that he didn't need to cry, that we would be able to wash everything out and that he would be fine. He cried louder, "There's a ghost!" I told him that there wasn't a ghost. "Yes there is! I can see it right there!" More crying. "Aaaarrgghhh! My hands are all crazy!" I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed harder when my sister told me that any time he gets really upset, he says that there is a ghost, as if the ghost explains his screaming. Then he told me to stop laughing.
He also brought a picture for me that he had drawn. I put it up on my fridge. He started freaking out. "Take it off! I don't want that picture on there. I don't want to see it, and if it's up there, I would have to see it anytime I go close to the fridge, and I don't want to see that picture anymore. Take it off so I don't see it!" A little while later, he took the picture home because "I don't want to look at it, but I just want this picture anyway."