Clifford the Big Red Dog and Spiderman jumped into the red car to escape the Spit-Up Monster. In their hurry, their car hit the Glitter-Bug. Clifford fell out and Spiderman went to save him, just in time from the large, drooling monster.

            “Aaaaahhhh!” said the monster, with an evil grin.

Spiderman and Clifford ran away, screaming. They got back into the car, and instead of driving away, it went into the air and flew away from the horrid monster.

 

I just love watching my two kids play. I mean, where else –besides in a child’s imagination –would Clifford and Spiderman team up to run away from a Spit-Up Monster? The monster, of course, is Christina, my two-year old. She’s getting the last of her teeth in and she spit up earlier in the afternoon. Hence the name of the Spit-Up Monster. Claire gave her the nickname. She’s six, with a heck of an imagination. As they play, I lay on Claire’s bed to rest for a few minutes. “Mom just needs five minutes, okay?” For the most part, they play well together. But sometimes, Christina will pull Claire’s hair, or they’ll fight over who gets to draw on the newer Magna-Doodle (thank goodness there are two of those, though), or who gets to look at a certain book. They have a full toy box of toys, plus a gallon plastic box full of more toys in the living room. Not to mention books out the wazoo, and even several large boxes of stuffed animals. All this and they still seem to zero in on one book or toy to fight over. Even funnier, Christina likes to take out all my canned foods from the pantry to stack on the floor. It’s not like she has Mega-Blocks to do that with. Even though I am a kid at heart, there are some things I will never fully understand.

Fwap! “Stop it!”

I opened my eyes. Christina probably slapped Claire, wanting the Magna-Doodle. Sure enough, she had it in her lap. I sighed. “Claire, just play with this one.” The older one was actually only a couple months older. She folded her arms and pouted. She glared at Christina scribbling happily. “Well then, find something else. Or,” I looked at Christina, “Maybe Christina could share”

At the sound of the s-word, Christina made a face. “Naa.” With that, she turned her back to Claire, and continued to scribble on the Magna-Doodle. I sighed again, not in the mood to fight or argue with Christina. “Claire, just find something else to play with. Okay?” She pouted and crossed her arms again. “Or you can sit there and pout.” I got back onto her bed and lay down. Claire got up and walked to me, thumb in her mouth. She put her head down on the pillow, her face only inches from mine. Her eyes are dark –almost like mine. Dark brown, but hers has the slightest bit of green and gray in them. Her nose is small and rounded and her lips are full. When she smiles, it’s hard to not smile back at her.

“Claire, sweetie. Go play. I just need another minute to rest.” She gets up, thumb still in her mouth, her other hand curling around her hair between her fingers. She gives her little sister, who is content, a look. I close my eyes, almost waiting for a scream. But –nothing. I open them and Claire is at the toy box fishing for something to play with. I closed my eyes and napped for a few minutes, to the sound of scribbling, Christina’s constant “yeah, yeah, yeah” and Claire’s croupy cough.

I woke up. It was quiet. Too quiet. Very slowly and cautiously, I opened my eyes. Claire was sitting by the bed, watching me. Christina…. “Where’s Christina?” I asked. I sat up, my right hip popped loudly.

A sound emerged from the closet. Claire shrugged her shoulders. Together, we opened the closet doors and…

Dun-dun-dun â™ªâ™«â™ªâ™«

 

 

…And it was the Spit-Up Monster, ready to attack. With her evil sneer, the Monster lept

out of her cage and attacked Mother Bear! “Rowrrr!”

The girls burst into giggles. How long was I asleep? I glanced at their small clock –with pigs and sunflowers on it- 4:15. Oh, good. I was out for maybe ten minutes.

So, now it was time for The Talk. I sat on the floor. Christina crawled onto my lap. Claire plopped in front of us.

“So, girls,” I began. “What do we want for supper?”

“Yeah,” Christina said.

“Mac and cheese.”

I sighed. She says that every time. “Claire, hon. We just had that yesterday. Try again.”

Claire tapped her fingers on her chin. In serious thought. She looked around the room. Looked at me and her little sister. She shrugged her shoulders. “How about hot dogs with Mac and cheese?”