Saturday, December 17, 2011

Princess Emaline

"That's a pretty horse," said Emaline. "When I get to that castle, I'll be a princess."

We heard about a book deemed the Worst Book Ever: Microwave for One by Sonia Allison. When we looked up the book on Amazon, we found, among other items also viewed, this gem of a t-shirt. Emaline, eating pancakes at the table with us, beamed.

Of course, five minutes later, I heard screams coming from our bedroom, followed by the familiar, "Keillor, you need to go to time out." Seems he had hit his sister in the head. Time out is the area at the bottom of our stairs. It is enclosed on three sides by the gate to the stairs, our bedroom door, and the door to the dining room (now the makeshift shared bedroom for the twins during construction).

In time out, Keillor likes to scream like he is being beaten. Red-faced, tears streaming down his cheeks, beating on the door, Keillor is a delight. His sentence would conclude if he could calm down and apologize to Emaline. Instead, he hit me in the face. He would not be getting out early for good behavior.

Eventually, and abruptly (like flipping a switch) his tantrum ended, he said, "I'm sorry, Daddy." He was ready to make amends with his victim. Walking over to his sister, he said, "I'm sorry, Emaline," to which she responded. "It's OK, Keillor; I giving you a hug." A heartwarming toddler hug was shared, followed by more shenanigans. "I gonna be a princess," said Keillor.
"You can't be a princess, Keillor. You a boy."


When I was a kid, I used to love getting oranges in my stocking at Christmas. My mom would quarter them, and I could eat them the only way a kid should eat an orange: making monkey lips. Until recently, the twins were not into oranges. However, a trip to Cracker Barrel and a piece of garnish changed that. We bought them tangelos, and they are quickly making their way through a bag.

This is life at the Mau house.

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