“Stop it!” I heard Miss11 snap in the kitchen.
Sometimes she’s a little unreasonable with her expectations of her younger siblings, so I thought I’d stick my head in the door to make sure her tone was warranted and see if maybe I needed to snap at her to ‘stop it’.
What I saw was Miss11 sitting at the dinning table doing her homework while Miss7 was standing on a dinning chair next to her.
I switched targets.
“Hey!” I said to Miss7. “What possible reason could you have for standing on that chair?”
A guilty look stole across her face, but was almost immediately replaced by a cheeky one. I’ll give it to my third youngest, she knows how to divert attention.
“Guess,” she said.
Of all the things she could have said, I really wasn’t expecting that.
And I do love games.
“Are you just trying to upset me?” I suggested, going for the obvious.
“No,” smiled Miss7.
Now, to be fair, there is a time when it is acceptable to stand on a chair. Preparing to jump up on one myself, I asked, “Is there a mouse?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Good.
“You’re trying to reach something?”
“No.”
It was a long shot. I couldn’t stand on a chair and reach the ceiling fan in our house, let along the ceiling.
“Dancing,” I suggested. “Are you working your way up to dancing on tables?”
“No,” she said, jutting her bum out and giving a little wiggle with her hips anyway.
“Stop it!” snapped Miss11 again. Her head was right at Miss7’s bum level.
Miss7 giggled delightedly.
“Dad,” said Miss11, giving me a pleading look. “Didn’t you hear that? She keeps farting at me!”
What do you know? There are two good reasons for standing on a chair.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs”
