This afternoon, we ate take-out pizza* for lunch in our backyard sukkah. (Even more holidays are on the horizon; I am so, so sick of meal-planning and executing I could cry.) One of the very nice things about the location of the sukkah is that it is literally in the playground; it makes up for the fact that we have to walk down a flight of stairs and 200 feet to eat together.**
Miss M and AM ate and were excused to go play. A few minutes later I glimpsed them huddled together over the black playground matting with a piece of chalk. I assumed that she was writing the alphabet for him, a frequent request. But he appeared to lose interest and wandered over to the swing.
Taxman and I finished and packed up, stopping by her creation as we stepped out of the sukkah. Two dress-wearing stick figures with words next to them.
“Wow, what’s this?” I asked.
“This is me,” she said, pointing to the one on the right, “saying ‘No!'” (It was spelled “o – backwards n.”)
“And this person is saying ‘Go to something’–what’s that after ‘Go to’?” I inquired.
“That’s you, Ema. I’m saying ‘No!’ and you’re saying ‘Go to your room!'”***
Life with Preschooler: A Graphic Novel….coming to bookstores soon. As soon as Taxman and I stop giggling about this particular chapter.
* Miss M, who eschews anything with the merest hint of tomato, had an avocado sandwich.
** Minors and women do not have the same obligations to eat in the sukkah as able-bodied men. The kids and I have been eating regularly upstairs, but in order for Taxman to eat a real meal he’s got to be in a sukkah.
*** For the record, sending her to her room is not something I do all that often, because it doesn’t achieve much–other than separating her and AM when things get too physical and he gets hurt. When she was younger she hated to be away from the action, but now she would disappear into her bookshelf. So the discipline factor? Not so much.