Lazy Mornings

Margaret, if given her way (and let’s be honest, she usually is when it isn’t harmful to her health or moral character), would spend at least a half an hour in the yard every morning when we get back from taking Leo to work.

So that’s pretty much what we do, and she and I run around and play.  I am, should anyone be interested, a very accomplished stick-into-bucket putter, and I also excel at bucket maintenance.  Buckets play a very important role in our lives.

But this morning, before we left to take Leo, I neglected to put Margaret’s shoes on.  My plan, once I realized my error, was that we would run inside when we got home and stick her feet into shoes, before dashing back out.

Unfortunately, she lacks the verbal skills to comprehend this plan, and all she got out of it was GOING INSIDE WITHOUT PLAYING, which was apparently the worst thing EVER.

So I put her down on her bare feet, and she had no idea what to make of that.  She wanted to run, but it wasn’t comfortable, and I admit that I watched her struggles with a certain amount of amusement.

Her solution to  the problem suggests that the hamsters in her brain are doing really well.  She grabbed my hand and led me across the yard to the swing, steadying herself on me when she stepped on something unpleasantly knobbly.  And when we got there, she made clear “up” gestures, so I would know that she had designs on the swing.

And then she proceeded to enjoy herself.

And then she tried to sell me a used car.

And the thing is, I’m pretty sure that it was my car she was trying to sell me, since she wouldn’t be able to get her hands on any other cars, which makes it even worse.

Also, when the time came to go in, she made the sign for “more” (which she uses to mean “food”) and said something – several times – which sounded like it might be breakfast.