But, Alas, No One Ever Does

Reductio Ad Absurdum

I went to wake Edward up this morning but the moment he opened his eyes he croaked, "My throat." So I put the blanket back over his face and left, pausing next to the Caroline-shaped lump on his floor to whisper, "Edward's not going to OT today so you don't have to get up yet."

The lump hissed back, "I wasn't going to anyway" which was most likely true since getting Caroline out of non-bed in the morning is a struggle even on normal, wake-up-an-hour-later days

[Two things:

1. Someone asked how I wound up at Target in the morning before school and the short answer is: school starts at 9:20 and 9:30 for Patrick and C&E, respectively, and Edward has OT on Tuesdays at 8 so I run errands


2. Remember when toddler Caroline used to fall asleep in dresser drawers or under her crib or in the bathtub or holy mother of all the saints that one time she crawled out the window onto the porch roof 

(I just checked to see if I could find that post and I discovered that I still cannot read it. Started to do so and then I started to cry. Here you go if you want it - my heart-attack girl

jesus. my hands are shaking.)

So. Yes. She still does not like to sleep in beds and last night she slept on Edward's floor.]

Noelle sent her son to pick Patrick up for his cooking club (reason #554 why everyone should be lucky enough to have a Noelle. And a Noelle's son) so I made Edward a bed on the couch and then was able to have a leisurely morning getting Caroline ready. I even made her an omelette because I had the time and I think that the only child willing to eat eggs should be encouraged in this. It was all very pleasant - well maybe not for Edward with his throat but having an hour and a half to get one child out the door really worked for me.

Just as we were leaving Caroline stopped and ran back to Edward, clutching her backpack.

"Here," she said, taking a rock out of it and handing it to Edward. "You can have Geodie for the day."

"Thanks Caroline," Edward said. "I'll take good care of him."

"Uh, good, but... she's a her."

"Oh!" Edward said, startled, and then he handed the rock back to her. "I don't think I could take a girl rock."

I opened my mouth to object on every possible level but Caroline got there first, "Hmmm," she said. "I don't want you to be alone... "

[I was going to point out that he wasn't going to be alone; I was going to be there but then I realized that twins (these twins at any rate) have two definitions for alone: no one else around and anyone else but their twin. Who am I to argue?]

"I know! She can be a boy but only until I get back from school."

Edward took the rock and started crooning at it, "Who's a good boy? Who's a good little rock?"

I thought... but I had to get Caroline to school.

When I came home, though, I said, "Hey Edward, you know how I always tell you that there is no such thing as a girl toy aisle and a boy toy aisle?"

"That's not true," he said.

"Yes, actually, it is. There are toys. Period. Stuffed animals, legos, nerf shooters - everyone likes to play with them. Anyway! I am wondering why you didn't want to take care of a girl rock. What would be different about a girl rock from a boy rock?"

Edward thought about it.

"A girl rock would probably talk all day."

"Edward. It's. A. ROCK."

He laughed, "Yes, but it is Caroline's girl rock so it would need a lot of attention."

Hmm. As Patrick would say after our three days in New Orleans - true dat.