Don't You Sass Me

Sass happens, especially with two young daughters in the house. Like good moms everywhere, I tried to solve the sassiness. I ignored it. Gently, I redirected it. I sent sassers to their rooms. I sent sassers to time-out chairs. And sassers skipped play dates. I even sassed back, and no, that wasn't helpful. None of my sass solutions satisfied until I discovered the piano. Commanding the sasser to "go practice piano" hit the spot. The sasser could not glare at me; neither could the sasser whine and play at the same time. And the sound of plunking keys meant no sneaking away. Eventually the sass settled. Now I'm stuck with daughters who play the piano. And they have their revenge, which I'm sure is sweet. They practice the same few notes over and over; then they practice some more. They say, it's to get it right. But I think it may be sass at its finest.

Privileged

Daisy's college keeps sending money. In three days, the mailman delivered three checks. Nothing on the checks tells me why they were written. I think they are Mizzou's way of saying, "Thank you. Daisy is such an enjoyable, motivated student, we will pay you for the privilege of having her." Someone else might suspect the checks reflect adjustments in meal plans and class credits. But I'll hang on to my "Thank You" theory and keep checking the mail.  

The Talking Head

The talking head waltzed into our bedroom last night. I never thought I'd like the phone with video thing, but Daisy at college has changed that. Skype puts her, or at least her head, wherever her sister Birdie is willing to transport her, via laptop. Last night's appearance was especially welcome as the Daisy at home always stopped in to talk over her day before saying "Good night." With Daisy's Skype eyes watching, we swiveled the laptop so she could see a cat and dog snoozing at our feet. She wasn't able to rouse them as she sounds nothing like the refrigerator. And then we spun our Daisy back to us and talked as if she were sprawled across the bed. Nearly 25 minutes passed. No crisis was solved, no deep secret revealed, just little tidbits of news and nothingness that ended with "Good Night."