babysitting siblings on a Friday night. . .

"Hey, hey, sis, hey, Emiwee, I'm still hungwy."

"What? I thought you were the one that didn't eat!"

Skinny little kid blinks at me.

"Well, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. I'm hungwy wight now I guess."

"Okay, well, it's Friday, so you can't have meat. Do you want peanut butter and jelly? The tuna salad's all gone and Mom hasn't had time to go shopping since we got back into town."

"Okay."

. . . I'm making the sandwich. . . .

The older boy says, "Hey, you know, Mom doesn't necessarily HOLD to the not-eating-meat on Friday thing."

I look at him blankly.

"You know that you have to make some kind of sacrifice on Fridays, Graham. It's a sacrifice for you to keep from eating meat, otherwise you wouldn't be telling me that."

He pauses for a time.

"What's for dessert?"

"I don't know yet."

"Well, . . . if it's something that's not too good I could give that up instead."

"Graham Lowell! You know that the whole point of a sacrifice is to give up something you like."

"Awwww, maaaaan. Okay, fine . . . "

Smaller child gets up from dinner table and plays around, tormenting his sister with the old "I'm not touching you" move, for the umpteenth time.

"Paul, Paul, now, listen kid, when I was little Mom never let us get up at all until we asked to be excused."

Makes some strange boy-like noises involving sticking out of tongue and wild contortions of the face - much like the illustrations in Calvin & Hobbes. As that cartoon strip is a family favourite it's hard to tell whether these expressions are from the nature the Watterson originally intended to imitate or are, rather, adverse effects of his literary influence.

I blink at skinny little brother.

"Paul, do I look amused?"

"Yes."

*&$# - - it didn't work. I thought I'd pulled off a poker face. I really need to get better at this.

"Paul, my patience is wearing thin."

"Is it this thin yet?" he asks, indicating something very small with his fingers.

Don't look amused. Don't look amused. Don't look amused.

Heck, it's no use. I'm amused. He can tell. How on earth am I going to keep order around here?

. . . Fortunately mothering happens one day at a time. . . . Hopefully I can develop these skills, eventually . . .