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Browsing Tag: why can’t I go to MY room for a timeout?

Selective Memory in the Making

The girls were standing at the front window, ogling our innocent neighbor as he mowed the swath of land that borders the road across from our houses.  He was hunched over the steering wheel, his jacket zipped tight, his white beard rustling a little in the brisk wind. If he’d caught sight of the two children acting like he was the most spectacular event that’d happened to them all day, well, I don’t know. My kids are easily entertained. “Who wants to read a book with me before Quinn’s nap?” I said, walking out of the kitchen. “Meee!” Two squeaky voices broke out in unison, and the girls spun away from the window to come racing into the living room.  Saoirse made a beeline for the baskets that house the board books in the coffee table as Quinn came bounding around the table, arms raised high, looking at me with a grin that made it seem I was suddenly a white-haired novelty on a ride-on lawnmover.  She clambored onto the couch. “Happy, happy, happy,” she said. I’m going to stop the story…