Tuesday, October 12, 2010

A Most Random Lost Day


Sophie and Jake, summer 2008

Here is another journal passage. All my old journals are handwritten, so it's kind of nice to get some small parts of them typed up and saved to my computer.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Today Mom, Sophie, Jake, Kris, and I went to the Museum Shop, this cute little shop that sells educational toys and games. The man who runs it is so sweet and gentle. He wears a bowtie and has silver hair. He’s always saying, “Look around. And remember, we have free gift wrapping.” He seems so kind. And shy.

Anyway, Mom told Sophie she could pick out a little something since Mom had just gotten Jake a present the other day. So Sophie picked out a little kit for making a footed tray, the kind you would serve breakfast on in bed. Oh, I should mention that Sophie had applied her own makeup in the morning and looked exactly like a clown, with perfectly round spots of rouge on her cheeks, and brilliant lips.

Jake was jealous of the tray. For some reason, he called it a “glitter table”—I guess because it came with glittery decals that you could decorate it with. When we were back in the car he yelled (Jake’s always yelling), “Hum! Sophie has a vanity table already, so why does she need a glitter table?!”

Mom said, “Would you like a glitter table too?” (Mom is very understanding of Jake.)

“Yes!”

Sophie yelled, “Jake! It’s not a glitter table! It’s called a Diva Tray!” (That’s what it said on the box.)

“It’s actually a breakfast table," Mom said. "You could use it to serve breakfast in bed.”

Sophie’s really squeamish. And she doesn’t like breakfast. “I don’t want to eat breakfast in bed,” she murmured in a pouty sort of way. You could tell she was really worried somebody was going to force her to do it. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Mom said. “We can use it for other things.”

Jake yelled, “Hum! I need a glitter table right now!”

Mom said, “We’ll see about getting you one.”

Jake looked at Sophie: “The glitter table Hum got is mine.”

“It’s mine!” Sophie cried. They were sitting in their car seats in the back, fighting.

We were driving around town, and all Jake could think about was his glitter table. “Mommy!” he’d shout periodically. “I am getting the first glitter table!”

“No, he is not!” Sophie would yell. “It’s mine!”

Kris was driving past a church. “I’m going to stop and send you two in there for a little training.”

Jake screamed, “No, I am not going to church! I’ve been to church at school a million times!” (Jake goes to an Episcopal preschool.)

Sophie was sitting in the backseat in her clown makeup, reading the various political campaign signs on the side of the road. “I think Varn is going to win for state representative,” she said. “Who are you going to vote for for state representative, Leslie?”

I just loved how serious she was being, and how foolish she looked, in her clown makeup. And I loved her notion that “Varn” was going to win. She acted like she really had the inside dope.

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