TAG! You're It!
She came running up to me that first time and yelled in my general direction:
"TAG! You're it!"
and went sprinting off, laughing with glee.
Being the rule abiding citizen that I am I stood there for a minute, then said:
"Sass? Part of tag is the tagging. You have to actually tag me to get me, ok?"
"Ok Mom!"
So she came running over again to where I sat waiting on the garden swing, getting ready to dodge a tag-back, and shouted into my face:
"TAG! You're it!"
And off she went.
I sighed and tried again.
"Honey? You have to touch Mommy. That's the tag part of the game. Got it?"
"Got it!!"
We played a rousing game that day and for days upon days since, and now every now and then when I'm at the counter getting dinner ready or studying my face in the bathroom mirror she'll sneak up behind me and shout to the back of my knees:
"TAG! You're it!"
She loves the thrill of the chase, she just doesn't have the tagging part down yet.
So anyway, I've been tagged by dear Mrs. Figby to do a meme and thank goodness because this week? I got nothing, folks. Here it is:
One body part you'd like to change: That's like putting me in front of a dish of M&Ms and telling me I can only have one. Not fair. Sooooo...I'll pick my feet. They're wide and not very attractive and because of a slightly turned out foot caused by an ankle that was broken during a good friend's college graduation party (blood alcohol level not published to protect the author), I tend to get a huge, ugly, unwieldly callous on my big toe. You had to ask, didn't you?
Describe your ideal Saturday: M gets up with the early riser (Party Girl) without me having to beg, plead, or whine. Sass gets up and goes directly downstairs without stopping to poke me to see if I'm still sleeping or not. They play and make breakfast and when I wake up everyone is fed, dressed, and the kitchen is put back into order. I read the paper, eat my oatmeal and we all go out together to do something fun -- maybe a hike at the state park, a movie at the mall, a trip to Grandma's, or one of Sass's favorite summer activities -- the fair (of which we have about 20 gazillion of around here in the summer. Seriously, every weekend the child could be riding mini-rollercoasters and eating elephant ears.) Then we go out to dinner some place cool and comfortable that has a decent children's menu and doesn't raise their eyebrows at Party Girl tossing stuff onto the people's table next to us. We all come home and we tuck the girl's into bed together and watch a movie while I fall asleep with my (ugly) feet in M's lap.