By Chip Chipheardt
Today local child philosopher and master economist, Isabella S., at home from school with a stomach ache which disappeared after watching just one episode of Sponge Bob Squarepants, felt herself inspired by a prolonged romp in "mud city" to propose a solution to the global economic crisis.
The children have been overhearing details about the financial gloom and doom from their still luckily employed, but nevertheless nervous parents. Ever since potty talk was banned from the evening conversation, the most similar topic seems to be how to survive the difficult economic times. Family dinner dialog has been dominated by questions such as "Will everyone in the entire country soon be jobless?" and "Maybe money as we know it will no longer exist?" and "Maybe we'd better grow our own backyard vegetable garden and learn to can?"
The dialog between sisters and resulting revolutionary idea are presented here unedited:
-Iris (knee deep in mud): Daddy will be aggravated at us.
-Bella (digging a mud hole in the front yard, in reference to "mud city"): Even their food is made out of mud. How do they even eat food? (Tastes mud). Eww! They can't eat mud!!!
-Iris (legs covered in mud): Look at my legs! I made prints for dad in the driveway. Now he will know what we did.
-Bella: Someone is in charge of this whole city and they made us all brown.
-Iris (wiping her face): Even we have brown boogers!
-Crazy Mother: Bella! Go snap your sister's dress back up. You can't be out here in your underwear.
-Bella: Oh, oh, oh, we're all melting!!!
-Iris: I'm melting.
-Bella (revelation out of the blue? continuing a conversation she's having in her head?): We've all melted down. If the whole world runs out of money. . . . we'll just live in space.
-Crazy Mother: You are a genius.
-Bella: I know. Now let's dry off this mud.
Photos from the event:
Get out of the neighbor's mud. Let's make our own.
Look, ma, mud gloves.
Let's make mud huts.
Abandoned to the idea of living in space.
The night before the tonsils came out, Molly & Tom joined us for a "Tonsils Going Away" party. Mommy baked the cup-cake-cake and daddy lead us in a rousing chorus of "Happy Death Day, dear tonsils, Happy Death Day, to you."
Iris has always been able to put together an outfit. Nothing quite like matching flower skirt with bare legs, Christmas socks, winter jacket, and heart t-shirt (not shown). Rock out girl. Iris also declared today her intention to become an "Elephant Rider" when she grows up, because "elephants move really fast, with their big feet, clomp, clomp, clomp!"
Two days post surgery, and Bella was back to playing in the backyard, climbing trees, fighting with her sister, etc. A girl can't let one little surgery get 'er down.
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