Allieism: Being Stupid

I was discussing an upcoming camping trip with Allison (aged 11), and she was reading the campground rules. 

Allie:  "Mom, it says here that no alcohol is allowed!  You can't bring any wine!"

Me:  "Honey, that's kind of ... an excuse kind of rule.  That means that the owners have legal recourse and can kick people out of the campground if the campers are getting all drunk and stupid."

Allie:  "Well, if they drink THAT much, they're probably pretty stupid already."

Me:  "...... BAHAHAAAAAAAHAAAAAA!"

Playin' With Da Beans -- a Memory

One morning, several years ago, I was feeding our then-baby boy while sitting on the couch.  I looked up to see our little beautiful blonde girl sitting on the floor in front of the glass front door.  The golden slanted morning sun was streaming through, filled with specks of dust.  She kept slowly, gracefully lifting her pudgy little pink hands into the sunshine, then she would carefully wave her little hands through the dust motes floating in the sunshine. 

I asked, "Allie?  What are you doing, honey?"

She answered, "I playin' wiff da BEANS!"

"Beans?  What beans?"

"Mama, da SUNBEANS."

Allie & Friend's Kitchen: A Loose Transcript

Right this minute, my 11 y.o. daughter and her 10 y.o. across-the-street best friend are trying to make cupcakes or muffins or something.  I can hear them from the next room, but can't see them.  BTW: I have NO idea how any of this relates to VAMPIRES.  No idea.

Overheard:
BFF: How are we going to do this?  Can we just make it up?
A: Well, yeah.  But...
BFF: Maybe we can use a recipe?
A: But that's boring.
BFF:  Well, we could just ... let it guide us.
A:  YEAH!  WE can add stuff!

---
BFF: Let's divide it up.  It says "wet" and "dry" ingredients are separate.  You be wet, I'll be dry.
---

BFF:  Ok.  Um.  How much flour?
A: 2 cups?
BFF: You sure?
A.  Uh.  Let me check.  OH.  2 and a half.
BFF: Is that 'two AND a half' or 'two halves'?
A: I think two and a half.  It says .... "two, one slash two." That's two and a half.
BFF: OK

--
 BFF:  Now it says "baking powder." What's that?
A: It's up there.  The round one ... no.  Not that one.  The next one.  Right there... yup.
BFF: How much?
A: I think.... um.  A tablespoon.
BFF? Tablespoon?
A: The big one.
BFF: You sure?  Or is that 'teaspoon'?
A: "T B is tablespoon.  T S P is teaspoon."
BFF: ohhh
---

A: Ok. Butter.
BFF: How much?
A: It says a half stick.  How much is that?
BFF? Well, a half of a stick.
A: But our butter comes in a round thing.
BFF: Hm.  Let's see.  OH!  It says "4 TB" also.
A: Oh.  Ok. Then four tablespoons.
BFF: Just dump it in? OK
A: WAIIIIIT!  It's supposed to be melted!
BFF:  Whoops.  (clinking sound heard)  There.  Took it back out.
(microwave beeping)
A: Careful.  You never touch the bowl when you've heated something like butter.  It's really hot.
BFF: Ok.  (drawer opening heard) Can I use this?
A: Yes.
---
(Beeping of oven temperature being set)
-----
A:  LET'S ADD OUR STUFF TOGETHER!
BFF: YAAAAY!
(much clanging of spoon on bowl heard)
A: GO GO GO GO GO!
BFF: Stir hard to get ALL the lumps out!
(clangclang)
-----

A: what do you wanna add?
BFF: chocolate?
A:  YEAH!  And maybe ... strawberries?
BFF.  Oooh. yeah.
---
 BFF: I wanna use the big, BIG spoon.
A. Here.
---
 A: I, like, got this pan for CHRISTMAS.  It has an anti-stick thing on it so if you spill stuff on it, it just slides off.  It's so awesome.
BFF: (giggles)
---
BFF: (giggle) Allie! You're squeezing the strawberries.  Eeewwww.  Let ME do it now.
A:  HA!  Oh no! Teddy (the dog) is eating something!  NO, TEDDY! Oh dear.  He's eating the butter wrapper.
 ---
BFF: Ok.  I need to wash my hands now to make mine.
A: Ok. Good idea.
BFF: I'm going to add strawberries ON TOP.  To make them attractive.
A: Oh, they're SO ADORABLE!
---
BFF: (clanging of spoon) Oh.  That is SO chocolatey and gooood.
A: Mine don't taste too strawberryish now, but I think they will once they're cooked.
BFF: Oooh!  They're nice! I can taste the cinnamon.
---
A: Oops.  OhhhH!
BFF: How much did you ADD just now?  DON"T STIR IT IN? DON'T!
A: Well.... too late.
BFF: HAHAAAA! Oh, that is PINK! Get your mom to see. HA!
---
(concentrated quiet, with the occasional clang of a spoon on bowl, and the crunching of muffin papers being rearranged)
---
(Beeping of the oven timer being set)
---
BFF: I'm going to do the strawberry ones now.
A: I'll do the chocolate.
BFF: Ok.
---
BFF: We should probably do the dishes.
A:  Mmmmmmph.
---
BFF: I only did one major one.  I mean, one that's completely full.  I wonder how it'll turn out -- probably splat out all over the place.
A: mmHmmm
---
A:  I have an idea!  We'll each use a big big big big pan and use the rest of the batter.
BFF: What kind of pan? Can we use cooking spray?  Do you have spray?
A: MOM!  WHERE'S THE COOKING SPRAY?
---
(spraying sounds heard)
---
(giggling and clanking)
----
BFF: Here, put some of THESE over there.  What did YOU DO, Allie? ALLIE.
A: Ooops.
BFF: Oh, Allie.
---
(many more short sprays heard)
---
A: C'mon batter! Go faster! (tapping sounds heard)
BFF: Maybe we could just.... (clanging sounds)  Hmmm.
A: Oh, LOOK!
BFF: Both of 'em?
A: Yes.
---
(Oven door opening, cautious sliding sounds heard.  Beeping of timer being started)
---
And then?  CLEANING sounds begin. Rumbling of chairs being dragged around, cabinet doors opening and banging closed.
---
BFF: When these are done? You can like, put them on a special tray, but don't put them there yet.  Vampires. You know?
A: Mmmmhmmm.
----
A: WHOA!  Look at YOURS!
BFF: WHOA!  Look at YOURS!  Look at YOUR Neapolitan one!
A:  LOOK at YOUR Neapolitan one!
---
BFF:  ALLIE!  50 seconds left!
A: OH!  OK!
Together: 10! 9! 8! (giggles) 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

Post Script: 
Muffins were good. A trifle tough, but quite good.  And there were two very proud little girls who made a nice memory of an afternoon off of school.  But I'm still wondering about the vampires.

Delighted With ShrinkyDinks

Oh, what a fun time we had at the party!  (My daughter turns 11 soon.)
Basically, three LOVELY little girls (ages 8, 9, and 11) joined my girl for dinner and cupcakes and fun.

AND SHRINKYDINKS!

Shrinky Dinks (TM) are awesome sheets of plastic which, after being colored and cut into shapes, get baked.  (*Not unlike me after the party last night.)  Upon baking, they shrink to 1/3 of their size, but get 9x thicker.  (Yep.  9x thicker after a night of partying? MmmHmmm.)

Primarily, the girls made charms for charm bracelets last night (a banana, hearts, a cell phone, a birthday cake, flowers, butterflies, and so on).  It was SO sweet to see them shrug off the "too cool for that" mentality and just dive in and color and play.  They giggled, screeched, laughed, and whacked the others with balloons.

One of the girls' moms stayed with me to drink wine supervise, help with the make-your-own pizzas, and chat.  She and I just get along so well, even though we come from very different perspectives.  She's from the other side of the world -- literally-- and comes from a religious/social background that is rather unknown to me (until recently), and she's a MATHEMATICIAN.  I mean, that alone outlines our differences dramatically.

I love little girls.  I love their capacity to become best friends upon sight.  The fact that they just ... play.
And you know what?  I'm learning to do the same.

Birthday Girl

My daughter.  My precious little fairy. Turning 11 soon.  She's survived the years I worried most about -- 8, 9, and 10.  I don't know why those concerned me so much.  Could be that during those years for me, I found my lifelong passion (flute), fell in puppy love the first time, discovered how hard I found math to be, watched my family go through some big changes (siblings getting married, moving out, parents changing jobs), and started to figure out who I was.

Eleven was where I started to enjoy things a bit.  I started to be regarded by my peers as smart, talented, and sweet.  (It took me decades for others to think of me as funny, though.  Weird.)  At 11, I was already largely the person I'd end up being.

I wonder, when I look at her.  Is she already involved in her calling?  Would that be the science club she's in?  Or math-0-rama?  Or cooking?  Maybe the writing contest she does every year.  Flute she's been playing?  Possibly choir.  I have no idea.

Eleven is on the way to being a young lady.  At 11, you know some of the 'facts of life.'  And you've heard stories about the rest of them.  You have opinions about things.  About politics, economics, people, fashion.  This is delightful to think about, but a bit scary too.  We're on the cusp of this "mother/teenager" relationship I've heard of.  I know.  Eleven is NOT a teenager.  But we're definitely in the neighborhood now.

She's afraid she'll change into a stereotypical teen.  We've discussed this, and I remind her that all those generalities are just that -- general.  And I'm afraid I"m going to be a pre-menepausal woman who is a bundle of prickly feelings and hot flashes.  Does that happen to ALL mom/daughter pairs?  Am I just as guilty of believing the generalities?

I hope not.

Allie-ism

When I asked her this evening if there was anything underneath her bed (we were going to rearrange her bedroom furniture a bit), she responded,

"Well no.  I mean, no mice or monsters or anything like that."

OK, then.