Our chore chart lives on. Every month or so it needs reorganized. Negotiations rule the discussion. There are a lot of gray areas.
“I cleaned my room, but I forgot to put up a magnet. Now it’s dirty again. Does that count?” Piper asked.
“It doesn’t count. You have to clean your room again,” Sissy said.
“Fine. But I’m putting up two magnets then. And then, I may just mess it up again.”
It’s spirit week at school. On Monday Piper wore her pajamas. I don’t really know what wearing your pjs to school has to do with spirt, but gosh, it’s fun. Piper and Sissy cracked themselves up getting dressed in the living room (that’s where we keep piles of clean clothes these days) changing from their night pajamas to their carefully selected day pajamas.
Today was wacky tacky day. Again, I have no clue how this promotes school spirit but who doesn’t want to dress a little crazy now and then and get away with it? Piper wore three headbands. Sissy wore ponytails on top of her head. They chose crazy mismatched clothes and two separate shoes. At dinner they reported on their wacky tacky sightings.
“Did you see the girl in her bikini?” Piper asked.
“Yep. She was on the playground with me. She looked cold,” Sissy said.
“Yeah. That skirt didn’t seem to cover much if you know what I mean.”
“Oh, I do, sister.”
“Some boys in my class spiked their hair,” Piper reported.
“Mine, too. Boring.”
“Yeah. Anyone can spike their hair.”
“Did you see the girl with underwear on her head?” Sissy asked.
“I did,” Piper said. “Does that mean she wasn’t wearing any underwear you-know-where?”
“Gosh. I really hope not.”
Piper thinks a lot of things are awesome. Like museums on Sunday Funday and elevators. And most things in between. Her joy can’t be contained. It shouldn’t be either. Take a look.
“Piper, what did you think?” I asked.
“It was awesome! Let’s ride it down!”
Piper and Dad were driving to ballet lessons yesterday when Piper saw a neighborhood watch sign.
“Dad, how come burglars always dress in black?”
“They don’t want to be seen. If you were black at night, you blend in more.”
“If the house is yellow, shouldn’t the burglar wear yellow?” Piper asked.
“Maybe. But if it’s dark, they’d stand out wearing yellow. Then they might get caught.”
“If I were a burglar, I’d only break into rainbow colored houses. They’d never see me!”
This note came back to us in Piper’s homework folder yesterday. 
Apparently, Sissy was helping Piper with her homework the night before. Piper didn’t receive words for the word sort assignment. Sissy took it upon herself to communicate appropriately to the teacher.
Thank goodness someone is parenting the Piper. When I grow up, I want to be Sissy.
Most kids have a rough spot in their day. Usually, it’s the dinner/bath/bed hour in which they simultaneously move like molasses and collapse from exhaustion/overstimulation. Sissy and Piper have grown beyond that. They’re older. They party like rock stars these days. We have to end their nightly fun and beg them to sleep.
Mornings, however, can be trying. They don’t want to wake up. Then they want to linger over their hot cups of tea for an hour. The mad dash for the door happens in about 3 minutes. Clothes/teeth brushing/hair combing/backpacks in 90 seconds or less. We have no valid excuse for the morning crazy. School doesn’t even begin until 9:15 a.m. Wouldn’t you love hours like that? Our mornings would probably be more efficient if we weren’t pausing to crack up at a piperism every few minutes. Here’s a run down of why we were late this morning. Again.
7:40 a.m. “Mom, I had a dream last night! I was being chased by chipmunks. And I was completely naked. Except for my tiara, of course.”
8:10 a.m. “This tea tastes like sunshine in a cup. A cup of love. But I think it gives me gas, too.”
8:14 a.m. (calling through the open door from the bathroom) “Yep. It gave me gas. I’m going number 3 in here. That’s when you peefartpoop all at once!”
8:32 a.m. “I love that John Lennon song. You know, Imagine. The one Sissy learned on the piano for your birthday last year. I hope someday you’ll join us and the world WILL BE MINE.”
8:38 a.m. “My breakfast is cold now. Would someone heat it up for me?”
8:44 a.m. “Sissy! I’m getting dressed in here. All by myself. It’s a hoot. I’m going to need some accessories. Some bling. You can’t go to school with anything less than three accessories, you know.”
8:52 a.m. “How am I supposed to decide which of my favorite stuffed animals to sneak into my backpack when everyone’s yelling about being late to school? Geez.”
Then, we stumble toward the door. Sissy and Piper are mostly fed, somewhat organized, almost completely groomed, usually happy.
“Dad, did you have imaginary friends when you were a kid?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Dad, what was the name of your imaginary friend?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Well, then you must not have been very good friends.”
Last night we were serenaded by a local high school theater group prepping for their production of Grease. We were at our favorite diner. It’s old school decor and style with new school local organic food. Our party was six and the only table big enough for us was in front of their makeshift stage. We knew it would be noisy. Fun but noisy. But the Piper loves that kind of stuff so we sat down. Piper ordered french fries and a milkshake. Then the students began singing. Right in Piper’s ear. I thought maybe she would start belting out the music, too. I thought maybe she’d jump off her chair and dance. She didn’t. She ignored them. Completely. Coloring was much more important.
Later she asked if we could see Grease again. “You know, the summer lovin’ one, Mom,” Piper said, “not that boring ancient one.”
I found this in Piper’s backpack:
So, I did what it told me to do.
“Piper, how does Lips the Fish help you read?”
“Huh? I don’t know. I wasn’t listening. I was coloring. But look! I can do fish lips!”
Piper has a healthy disregard for most conventions. Like spelling. And pronunciation.
There is the Piper way of saying something and that’s it. You can correct her all you want. Go ahead. Waste your breath.
“Piper, it’s DARTH Vader. Not DARK Vader,” Daddy said last night as he was putting her to bed.
“That’s what I said. DARK Vader. Cuz his helmet’s black.”
“No, DARTH. With a TH.”
“Uh huh. Same thing.”
On Valentine’s Day Nana sent a care package. Piper wished us all a Happy VALENTIMES Day as she opened the box. As in, it’s TIME for Valentines.
Piper unwrapped her present and shouted, “Look! I got PELZ!”
“Those are PEZ, Piper,” Sissy corrected.
“I just love PELZ,” Piper said.
“PEZ. You love PEZ.”
“Yep. I love them both.”
piperism 