Cards

Last night, I discovered that my 3 year old daughter cheats at cards. It was a bit of a shocking revelation, especially since I hadn't noticed her stealing my Go Fish pairs. She began laughing uproariously and waving a 3 of fishes around. "I stole this card!" she exclaimed, unable to conceal her conquest any longer. Shocked, Willie and I could do nothing but laugh.

Last week, I concealed something perhaps equally impish. At the end of the grocery cycle, I poured the last bit of Rice Crispies and milk into a bowl for Willie. Busy doing something else, we both failed to notice Monkey Cat on the counter feasting on his breakfast. I turned and quickly shooed her away, unsure of the next course of action. If I came clean, Willie would not only miss out on breakfast, (we had NO OTHER food in the house) but he would be very cranky. Wasn't it better that he leave the house with a full stomach and a happy disposition? Wasn't it better that we still have a cat?

Of course, like Halle I could not keep the information to myself and blurted it out after he came home. These events prove that I would make a horrible poker player. Hiding emotion has never held much interest for me. This is something else I inherited from my mother.

Mom and Dad came to visit at Christmas. Mom and I went to the spa, where there is a "quiet area". The quiet area has a hot tub, steam room, and sauna. On the door before you enter, there is a sign that says clothing is optional. To me, that means pants are optional. A bathing suit is not optional. This is America, people. Not a beach in France. A woman who interpreted the sign differently was enjoying the steam room. My mom entered and almost bumped into the woman's ample flesh. "Excuse me!" she said in surprise. If the woman was bothered, she had a better poker face than mine. "No problem," she cheerfully replied. Mom left. Sometimes leaving is the most tactful course of action.