Wesley and Mary have been playing Star Wars in the yard. He pointed his finger and said, “I’ll get you, Darth Vader!”
Mary shouted, “I have TWO light sabers!” [Query for nonexistent editor: lightsaber? light saber?]
Wesley replied, “I have NINETY-NINE light sabers!” And then, after a moment’s thought, “And 100 hands, so that I can use them all and STILL point at you!”
So, this weekend, Mary has a dance competition today, and Wesley had a birthday party yesterday. Conor took Wesley to his party, while Mary and I ran errands (including stuff to get ready for the competition). It was a ridiculous list of things to do–dropping off some newsletters, going to the strawberry patch (not to pick, just to buy some berries), Target, Costco. Mary is excellent company on such an outing, because she doesn’t think anything is boring.
It was a beautiful day, and the strawberry farm had a truck selling ice cream, so we shared a milkshake, and as we were drinking it, Mary said (after a contented sigh), “You must be so happy to spend the weekend with me.”
Mostly because she’s so modest?
She is right, of course, although I wouldn’t have minded having Wesley and Conor along as well. She loves to go places with just Conor or just me, though. She added, “And you can have a whole Mary weekend!”
8:15 p.m.: I kiss Mary good night, close the door, and come downstairs.
8:36 p.m.: I hear a suspicious THUMP from her room, followed by “Don’t worry about it!”
8:45 p.m.: I hear what sounds suspiciously like a chorus of “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” coming from her room.
9:20 p.m.: I call up the stairs, “Go to sleep! No more singing and thumping!”
9:40 p.m.: Mary comes down the stairs and asks, “Do you want me to wash any dishes?”