A Classic Blunder

Mama fell victim to one of the classic kindergarten blunders.

The most famous of which is, never go south to drop off at school.

But only slightly less famous is this: never let Sabrina do her own craft project for kindergarten.

A few weeks ago, Sabrina’s morning teacher sent home a turkey.

No, not a real one. Although that would be pretty nifty.

It was a drawing of a turkey on a piece of paper. His name was Al. Al Buquerque. Al Buquerque the Turkey.

Al Buquerque the Turkey came with a note. “This is Al Buquerque the Turkey!” it said. “Can you help him? He’s scared of Thanksgiving. Using only materials you already have at home, disguise Al Buquerque the Turkey so that he won’t be cooked and eaten for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Now let me tell you something about my Mama. She doesn’t have so many materials at home. She doesn’t really sew, unless you need a button on your pants or Katie Dog has eaten the eyeballs off your teddy bear. She can handle that.

She doesn’t scrapbook. She definitely doesn’t do anything crafty. Elmer’s glue worries her. Glitter gives her hives. Sometimes some stickers get loose in the house, but Mama’s pretty fast on the draw. She rounds ‘em up, and throws ‘em out.

Sometimes she’s too fast. On the first day of school Mama had to go dumpster diving in our kitchen trash for some Sleeping Beauty stickers for Sabrina’s ALL ABOUT ME poster.

So when Al Buquerque the Turkey came looking for a getup, about all Sabrina had to work with was a box of washable markers and her wits.

Now Mama and Sabrina did some talking and they decided that Al Buquerque the Turkey’s big belly looked at lot like a pumpkin. And his wattle neck looked a lot like a stem to a pumpkin. So Sabrina decided to make Al Buquerque the Turkey into a Jack-O-Lantern.

Sabrina sat down with a pencil and drew some triangle eyes and nose on Al Buquerque the Turkey’s tummy. She added a scraggly toothy grin and declared herself Done.

Mama took one look and declared Sabrina Not Done.

Mama marched Sabrina right back to the table and made her color in Al Buquerque the Turkey. They had a little kerfluffle over it. Sabrina said no and Mama said yes and Sabrina said no and Mama said do you need a time out? Sabrina said no time out but then she said no coloring again and Mama said, “These are going to be hung up at school. Your teacher is going to see this.” So Sabrina went back to work at the point of a colored pencil.

Big Sister drew the pumpkin orange and the triangle eyes yellow and scribbled some green on the top. Then she declared herself Done.

Mama took one look and declared Sabrina Not Done.

Mama marched Sabrina back to the table and made her write her name next to Al Buquerque the Turkey.

Have you seen Sabrina’s handwriting? It’s not so good.

The last time Daddy saw Sabrina write her name he told Mama they should just give up and teach Sabrina to make her mark.

Anyway, by the time the pencil and the coloring and the kerfluffle were over, Sabrina wasn’t real invested. So her name looked like this:

Sabrinarinanna

Sabrina declared herself Done, and Mama declared herself Tired.

The next day we went to school to turn in Al Buquerque the Turkey, and we saw all the other Al Buquerque the Turkeys hanging up in the hallway.

I knew right away that Sabrina’s Al Buquerque the Turkey was cooked.

It was like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade of Turkeys. Like Easter morning in Turkey church. Only with better hats.

There was Al Buquerque the Turkey in a full pilgrim costume, made of fabric. Pilgrim turkey had a little felt hat with a buckle and a jaunty feather. There was Native American turkey. There was Al Buquerque the Turkey in a feather boa. Al Buquerque the Turkey hidden in a cereal bowl—with real cereal glued all over him. My favorite was Al Buquerque the Turkey in a complete miniature of the little girl’s Halloween costume, complete with a tiny tulle tutu glued around his waist.

Mama stood in front of those Al Buquerque the Turkeys for a long time. One of the school secretaries wandered by the turkeys and said, “Aren’t they great? I just love this project!”

“Please tell me there was significant parental involvement in most of these,” mumbled Mama. The school secretary just laughed and walked away.

Tiny tulle tutu’s Mama stopped by too. Mama complimented her on the tiny tulle tutu and tiny tulle tutu’s Mama chirped, “Thanks! It was a ton of work, but it’s what my daughter wanted!”

I’m pretty sure that Mama hadn’t spent a lot of time considering what Sabrina wanted.

Anyhoo, Sabrina’s Al Buquerque the Turkey has been hanging up for a while now, and no one has eaten him yet. Turns out there were some other little kids who colored their own Al Buquerque the Turkeys, too. One little boy colored his own turkey and wrote some words on there to explain his project that I can’t even read.

And it’s not because I can’t even read yet.

The sting of Al Buquerque the Turkey had pretty much worn off until today. That’s when Mama opened up the homework folder from Sabrina’s afternoon teacher.

“This is Gus the Gobbler!” it said.  “Can you help him? He’s scared of Thanksgiving. Using only materials you already have at home, disguise Gus the Gobbler so that he won’t be cooked and eaten for Thanksgiving dinner!”

I don’t think Mama should bang her head on the wall like that. It can’t be good for the wall.

Love,
Gobble Gobble!

A Cuddle! A Cuddle!

Guess what?!

Mama has a writer’s block.

Its name is ME! I like to block the writing.

I like to follow Mama around all day. I say, “A cuddle! A cuddle!” After she picks me up, I say, “Sit in da chair and read a book!”

I like to sit in da chair and read a book.

Mama sits in the da chair with me and we read Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus about 10 times. I can’t get enough of that little pigeon. He’s a hoot! Any book where I get to shout, “NO!” at a pigeon is the book for me.

When Mama gets up from da chair, I cry. Then I follow her and say, “A cuddle! A cuddle!” When she picks me up I say, “sit in da chair and read a book!”

Sometimes I pull on her hand and say, “I want to play wit Mama.” So we go into the playroom for a while and play with the bus. When Mama groans and gets off the floor, I shriek, “A cuddle! A cuddle!”

Sometimes I break it up by asking, “Time to go get Sabrina from school?”

If Mama gets up to do other things, I grab her leg. Then I hang on for dear life. Usually Mama is walking around the kitchen with my arms wrapped around her leg. It looks like a sad sagging little three-legged race.

When Mama bends down and says, “What do you need?” I say, “A cuddle! A cuddle!” When she picks me up, I say, “sit in da chair and read a book!”

Then I mix it up by saying, “Can we watch a show?”

When Mama says no, I say, “A cuddle! A cuddle!”

If Mama puts on a video for me, I say, “Want to sit wit’ Mama!” If she says no, I say, “A cuddle! A cuddle!”

Mama tries to get me to help with chores, but I don’t see why. We already have a maid service.

Sometimes I stand in the bathroom while Mama is taking a shower and chant, “Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma! Ma-ma!

It’s got a beat but you can’t really dance to it.

If I really want Mama then I start to cry. If I can squeeze a tear out, then I sob and ask for a cloth so I can wipe my eyes. Today Mama was taking a shower, so I was sitting on the bathroom scale and shrieking. Then a tear came out. I managed to choke out, “I need a cloth.” Mama said, “use the towel that’s right there.”

So I reached down and used the bathmat to wipe my eyes.

When Mama tries to help me, I try to confuse her. She crouches down and says, “What do you need?” And I say, “I need MAMA!” She says, “I’m right here.” Then I cry and throw my arms around her neck.

Sometimes she asks me questions. If the answer can be “no,” that’s the one I chose.

Mama to naked Me: Would you like to put on a shirt before lunch?
Me: NO!
Mama: OK. Would you like to be a nudie-cutie?
Me: NO!
Mama: OK, we’ll just go downstairs.
Me: (halfway down the stairs) I want a shirt!

I like to keep Mama on her toes.

At lunch I tell Mama I want peanut butter. She says “OK.” I watch while she makes me a peanut butter sandwich. When she brings it to the table I choke out a sob and say, “peanut butter and honey on da plate.”

Sometimes I put my fingers in the peanut butter and honey. Then I start to cry, “I sticky! I sticky!” Mama says, “OK,” and gets me a warm wet washcloth and cleans me off.

Then I put my fingers in the peanut butter and honey and start to cry, “I sticky! I sticky!” Mama says, “OK,” and gets me a warm wet washcloth and cleans me off.

Then I put my fingers in the peanut butter and honey and then start to cry, “I sticky! I sticky!” 

Then Mama says, “I think we’re all done here.”

Then I cry.

Sometimes Mama says that the shrieking is starting to get old.

How old can it be? I’m only two.

When Mama tells me I’m two, I say, “No, I not.” Then I ask if I can eat the Chap Stick.

Mama sighs a lot. Sometimes she whispers a bad word. She doesn’t say them out loud anymore because the last time she used her out-loud voice I wandered around for five minutes saying, “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!” “Darnit!”

I’m not even sure what that means, but it was fun to say.

Sometimes Mama sits with me and the computer so she can write. I’m on to that one. I bang on the keys. If she takes my hands away then I put my feet on the computer.

Then I say, “Want to skype with Oma!”

If Mama tries to make dinner, I stand on da stool and help her cook. If Mama puts me down because of knives or hot oil or turned-on burners, I fall on the floor and shriek, “A cuddle! A cuddle!”

If Daddy tries to take me away, I scream, “I want Mommy! I want Mommy! I WANT MOMMY!” Only with bigger letters.

Mama says that by the time I go to bed she has a headache.

Do you think she could be coming down with something?

Love,
Linnea


Love,
Linnea

Vote Early and Often

Guess What?

Mama voted four times today!

It was like Tammany Hall, but with better stickers.

Sabrina has been asking a lot about America, because every day at school she sings the Star-Spangled Banner and says the Pledge of Allegiance and now shouts out “I see the America flag!” everywhere we go.

Sometimes that Star-Spangled music starts playing while Mama and I are still at Sabrina’s school. As soon as it starts, all the kids pop up like their pants are on fire and start singing. Mama makes me stand still and I have to listen to her sing. And let me tell you, Mama can not hit those high notes. 

Anyway, yesterday Mama was trying to explain some things about “America” to Sabrina. Big Sister wisely informed her, “Yeah, but we live in Utah.”

Mama said that Utah was just one of the states, but that lots of states get together and they make up our country. 

Sister asked, “do they all get together and have a meeting?”

“Yes!” shouted Mama. “It’s called Congress!” and with that our fate was sealed. We were off to vote.

Now, Oma. Let me tell you about voting. First you stand in line. Then you get out your wallet.

I thought maybe we had to pay to vote, so I got out all the credit cards. Mama said that poll taxes were illegal, and that I could put the credit cards away.

Then I thought maybe we had the wallet out because they were going to pay us for voting. Mama said gone are the days when you got five dollars and a swig of liquor to go vote for the dead people.

After Mama got out her wallet, some nice ladies at the “Check In” table looked at Mama’s driver’s license. It says “COLORADO!”

The nice ladies said Mama had to do better than that. Mama whipped out our electric bill and our gas bill. The nice ladies said to turn down the thermostat and thank you for voting.

There was a nice man there, too. He gave everyone a sticker when they were done voting. The sticker said “I Voted!” The “O” in “Vote” was a fingerprint. Get it?

Me neither.

Anyway, while we were standing in the line with the nice ladies and the wallet and the driver’s license and the power bill, the nice man must have felt bad for us. He gave Sabrina a sticker and me a sticker. I gave mine to Mama so he gave me another one.

Then we were off to stand at a little desk while Mama fiddled around at a computer. Mama said there were too many people to go to a meeting and raise our hands to vote, so instead we wrote down our choices on a piece of paper and then all the pieces of paper were counted.

I didn’t want to say anything to Mama, but there was no paper in sight.

Do you think they hid the paper because Mama is a Democrat?

Anyway, Sabrina made some helpful suggestions while Mama voted the straight Democratic ticket. Sabrina said we should vote “yes!” on everything except the new recreation center, because she said we don’t use taxes for buildings.

Mama ignored her and threw the lever.

After Mama was done at the computer, it made some whirring noises and we were on our way. Another nice lady gave Mama a sticker that said “I Voted!” with a fingerprint where the “O” should be. I still didn’t get it, but I got on the bandwagon and gave my sticker to Mama anyway.

On the way home Mama explained that when her Oma was born, women (that’s a Mama) weren’t allowed to vote. She said that only men got to vote, because men thought that only men could make the decisions. She said that women worked really hard to get to vote, so now it was really important to vote. She said that when Sabrina and Linnea turn 18 it will be really important for us to vote, too.

Sabrina said that she would vote and say, “I am here!”

Daddy said that the 19th Amendment was a mistake and Mama’s Oma couldn’t vote because she lived in Germany.

Mama said, “whatever.”

After we got home last night Sabrina changed her clothes about 47 times but remembered to give Mama her “I Voted!” sticker with the fingerprint where the “O” should be. So by the time we went to bed Mama had four “I Voted!” stickers on her shirt.

At that rate, we’ll have a Democratic senator from Utah in no time!

Love,
Little Linnie L“O”U (with an “O” where the “O” should go).