Shh. The Fruit is Listening.

Piper likes cantaloupe. A lot. She wants it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And snack, too.

“Mom, I’m the cantaloupe whisperer,” she reported yesterday, stroking a melon in the grocery store aisle.

“Really? What do you tell them?”

Piper knocked on the melon. She sniffed it. “You can’t hear me. That’s the whisperer part.”


If you’ve been keeping up with your piperisms, you know that our little spitfire took a tumble last week. She earned herself a trip to the ER and four stitches. The stitches thread is blue, which Piper thinks is awesome. You can read about the drama here.

Yesterday Piper returned to school. She was excited to share her injury. Unfortunately, her mother made her put a band aid on it to keep out additional germs. Moms ruin all the fun. So Piper asked me to take a picture of her gruesome chin and print it. Stitches make for killer show and tell. Piper didn’t mind the attention one little bit.

She came home from school with this note from two of her best buddies.


“I am sorry that you fell down. Your friends, Madeline and Kian.”

So Sorry About This

This note came back to us in Piper’s homework folder yesterday.¬†photo-320

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.

Grease Lightning

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.”

Natural Consequences

This afternoon when I picked Piper up from school she ran into my arms, buried her face in my neck, and declared today the worst day ever. Ever is a very long time.

“What happened, P?” I asked, kissing her soft little cheek.

“It was Media Center day and I forgot my library book.”

“So they wouldn’t let you check out a new one? I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said.

Then Piper turned on me. “It’s your fault! You should have put my library book in my bag. You should remember it’s Tuesday!”

Oh, really. My sympathies began evaporating. I took a deep breath.

“It’s your library book, honey. You’re responsible for it. And if you forget it at home, then you have to wait for next Tuesday and try again. I’m sorry that you’re upset, but it’s not okay to blame me.” Whew. I didn’t even raise my voice. It probably helped that other parents were watching. Sissy, too.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Piper said, shrugging and skipping off to the car. “A girl’s got to try, you know?”


Piper thinks you might be following her. She knows you love the blog. You may love it so much that you’re trying to get secret pictures of her in action. Walking down the street. Sitting in the car. Dancing on the playground. You can’t get enough.

Yesterday as we were leaving school Piper saw a woman on her front porch with a camera. There was only one possible explanation.

“Ugh!” Piper exclaimed. “The paparazzi follow me everywhere!”