Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Totally regretting, "Sure honey, go ahead and try to make lunch," the jelly explosion.
"How did you get jelly EVERYWHERE?"
"I don't really know," he purses lips, wrinkles forehead, "I wasn't really watching." Decidedly. I plop the jelly knife in the sink, break out the wet-wipes.
Now the boy's cutting a little-sucker-thing the baby can bite on out of scrap fabric. "Can you sew this for Rosie, Momma?" He flits at my elbow. I sigh, crooked edges, shining blue eyes. "Momma?"
Janie whispers in my ear her that she'll make a whip for the cousins. "They'll LOVE it," she says. Lulie unloads the freezer ice machine, toddles in, an ice cube frozen to her lip.
They wave by in shifts. "Now we have all the whips that we'll need," one of them says. "Can we use the pins? When will you sew them, Momma."
The world swings like a ball on a string.
All that Christmas spirit. Sigh. I almost missed it.