The girls are zipping around the house when I come home from work today. Angelica is screaming at the top of her lungs for me to do science experiments with her (it's the fault of that blasted channel, TVIQ). Lauren is asking for milk (mine) while trying to medicate the heck out of me with her mosquito cream. It's her solution to everything. Mosquito bite, cream. Scratch, cream. Bruise, cream. Fight with her sister, cream. And as I am typing this, Angelica is reading every word as I type it out, hovering over me like a fly. She doesn't know how to read ALL the words, so it's "What's this word, Mommy?", "How do you read this, Mommy?" "I don't know this word, Mommy" every other word. Frustrated, much?
So I scream (I had to, to be heard above the din), "Who wants to make me a fruit salad? And a glass of juice???" It's like magic. Both scamper off to their play kitchen and start to make my order with the wooden fruits Lauren got for her birthday.
Five seconds of peace...
"Mommy, did you just ask me to make fruit salad so that we'll be quiet?" That is Angelica.
"Mommy, juice be quiet?" Lauren.
Now I have to go back to being an obstacle course for Lauren and rapt audience for Angelica's speeches and demands. Bye now.