plots | piperism

We caught Sissy reading a parenting magazine at breakfast yesterday. “Anything good in there?” I asked.

Sissy glanced over the top of the magazine. “You really should be teaching me this stuff, you know.” Which is probably true. But why bother when I can just have her read it herself? She doesn’t seem to need fixing to me.

Piper, too, got into the unsolicited parenting advice business tonight.

“Mom,” she began, “if I wrote a parenting book, I’d say…Step One: Be nice to your kid. Step Two: If they’re hurt, just hold them. Step Three: If they want something, give it to them after dinner. Step Eight: If they break something or ruin your favorite things and you get mad, pat them on the head and say you’re sorry. Step Five: If they want books, say yes.”

Whew. That’s a rather clear and concise parenting manual. I have to wonder if Step Four, Six, and Seven were key, though.

A few minutes later, Piper’s parenting plot was revealed. “Did I mention that there was a book fair at school next week?”

Piper came home from a birthday party with a craft kit. It was packed full of all the objects I forbid in this house: glitter, pom poms, multi-colored pipe cleaners, glitter glue, sparkly stick-ons, plastic straws, more glitter.

These things terrify me. I don’t get what you’re supposed to do with them. Art projects are beyond me. See Piper’s Star of the Week poster if you don’t believe me. Piper had big plans with her craft kit.

“I’ve been plotting,” she began. “I know what I’m going to do with this stuff.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “What?” I braced myself at the kitchen table for the bad news.

“My plot is to make a glitter family. Of us.”

Sissy interrupted. “I don’t think you’re using the word ‘plot’ correctly.”

“Plot means to plan,” Piper answered. “I’m planning to make a glitter family. Of us. That’s my plot.”

She had us there. Protesting seemed futile. So, I did what parenting a Piper had taught me to do: I rolled up my sleeves and sat down to learn.