the sparkle sisters
Big Sigh. It's one of those grey, rainy days, sloth-paced and soggy. One of those days where all you really want to do is curl up in bed with a mug of hot chocloate, a pile of gossipy magazines, and, of course, your wolf, and watch bad tee vee.
Frankly, I'm still exhausted from the three wee visitors i had earlier this week.
My three little cousins (Lil' A,. age 10, Baby B., age 6, and Wee C., age 3) and their mom were in town for a brief visit a couple of days ago. They're adorable little characters. They mashed cereal into my carpets, wiggled loose baby teeth for any and all interested parties, debated the merits of "Froop" popsicles with Jack, re-arranged my sea shell collection and were generally sparkly and delightful. Not to mention exhausting. I'm still recovering, as is the Wolf, who has probably never wagged her tail harder or been more punishingly adored.
I'm still finding mysterious pricetags from Marine Land plastered about, stickers no doubt peeled off souvenir snow globes, stuffed dolphins named Storm and a really cool life-sized purple boa constictor dubbed Snakey. 'Cuz really, what else would you call a purple boa constictor?
Actually, I really coveted the snow globe. It was this marine blue bubble thing filled with gel and sparkles and housing two positively beaming beluga whales. It actually felt like it was made of whale blubber. The girls verified this, having after all, waited in line for an hour and a half to pet the belugas. Now, I've touched a dolphin and even once held a giant millipede thing from Madagascar, but I've never petted a beluga. I fear my life will not be complete until I do.
Amazing how distinct and indiviual their personalities are. (The girls' that is, I've no opinion yet on beluga whale personalities.) Lil' A, the oldest, is very chatty and sophisticated, much occupied these days with critiquing Brittney Spears' fashion sense ("She has just really gone over the top, don't you think? She shows way too much skin and always has rips in her jeans." actual quote, or close enough.), speculating about her entry into the fifth grade and her first "boy teacher" – "some of the kids say he's tough. And others say he's good. I'll just have to wait and see and decide for myself. (thoughtful pause) It will be hard to beat my last teacher. She had incredible patience."
Lil' A accompanied the Wolf and me on our walk yesterday morning, before the tribe packed up the rental car and moved on to their next holiday destination. She was fascinated with acorns and immediately set about collecting a truckload, stuffing her pockets and rolling the rest up in the hem of her t-shirt. They live in northern Ontario where there is very few, if any, oak trees so acorns were quite the novelty.
She's decided she's going to open up a squirrel restaurant and introduce the northern squirrels to fine acorn cuisine. Much discussion about the menu. "Well, Acorn soup, of course, and acorn salad with peanuts and shredded grass. And for dessert, peanut butter pudding with hazelnuts sprinkled on top. And ginger ale in acorn top cups...." Unlike some Diaryland residents, Lil' A has utterly no quams about mixing with squirrels.
Baby B is the jolliest of the three, with a penchant for all things purple and a keen eye for interior decor. "Oooh, I like how you displayed that. That's nice. When I get my own room, I'm going to have a shelf like that, and I'm going to put my bed here. And I'm going to have a lamp like that...." She's also very proud of her long hair, making a big show of unbraiding it before bed "'cuz this is a high ponytail and i can't sleep with a high ponytail. It sticks in the back of my head."
"Are you ready?" she asked me as she prepared to unleash the glory that was her hair. "I've waited such a long time to get it just this long."
She was also the one with the wiggly teeth, seven wiggly teeth, in fact. After much negotiation, she agreed that Jack could have one as payment for her room and board if one should fall out during dinner. But she was very shrewd in making it clear that she would still claim the cash from the toothfairy.
Wee C. is the imp, with huge,marble blue eyes and a sweet tooth. She's gonna be a hell raiser, no doubt about it. She's going to be the one coming home with unsuitable boyfriends, tattoos and notes from the principal. She's probably already stashing cigarettes in secret caches about the house in preparation for her dark adolescence and ostracizing the nerds at nursery school.
"But the popsicle was all FROOP!" she said, trying to bargain for ice cream in addition to her popsicle, when she'd eaten exactly six slices of cucumber and nothing else for dinner. "I HATE lettuce! I HATE hot dogs! I LOVE cucumber!" Fearless and forthright, she had no qualms about admitting to her faults "I snore!" she practically screeched with delight while expertly scaling the wooden stair banister when grown-up discussion centred on who was sleeping with who.
She refused to give me a hug good-bye, but wriggled out of the car five times to kiss and hug the Wolf good-bye, telling her very gravely "I will miss you. I love you. I won't see you for a long long long time."
The house seems masoleum quiet now that they're gone.
Big sigh. Grey, rainy day, sloth-paced and soggy.