No fries or Chapstick for you!

We live off of road that has a lot of shopping and fast food restaurants on it.   Often, we drive by and see the employees, in uniform, walking to their job.  I often feel led, especially in extreme weather, rain, heat, cold, just about any weather, to stop and offer a lift up the street to their jobs.  The very first time I stopped was about two summers ago.  Girl child was 3 1/2, and boy child was 4 1/2.    He never really did talk much, but the female offspring has a very extensive vocabulary, and enjoys hearing herself talk ;o)  I'm not sure where she gets that from, but I have an idea.  (I like to to talk so much so, that I found another medium for it.  You are reading it.)   The Hispanic Wendy's employee was probably in her 40's, and it was so hot that you could see the mirage of heat in front of us that day.  It was insanely hot that summer.  That was the summer I began letting the kids each bring a cold water or juice to the lifeguards.  I felt so bad for those kids.  Anyway, I saw her, and stopped and asked it she wanted a lift.  It was probably just another 1/2 a mile, but I just knew it would make a difference.  She quickly hopped in.  The migits said nothing.  I tried to make nervous small talk about the weather, and she just smiled and nodded her head.  As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, that's when it happened.  I could see the kids getting excited.  We would get Wendy's fries as a treat on occasion when we would go to my parents' cabin in Hiawassee.  The lady pointed to where she wanted me to pull around the back, which is by the drive through, and I just said out loud, "No!  We are not getting fries!"  (I swear my girl migit was going to ask for fries.) I know that the lady was confused, but at least she had a story to tell her coworkers that day about a crazy lady with two kids.

I take great pride in the fact that my children are not "get-inskies."  I have lots of friends with kids that get into lots of things and cause major laughter for the rest of us when we see what they have ruined or gotten into.  Poor Lisa has a boy child that took a knife to a leather seat.  Scarlett has a daughter that likes to draw- on the wall.  I think that same migit found make up once too.  Well, we don't have make up here in this house.  Luckily, I have been really lucky that my kids don't really get into much.  Well, tonight, I was getting dinner ready as I was headed out the door the minute Geoff walked in to attempt the same routine as last night, sans E.R.  Well, I got dinner on the table, called the kiddos down, and knew Geoff would be thankful that I had prepared everything before I left.  Well, girl child shows up first and sits down, looks at me, and bats her eyelashes.  I notice that her eyebrows are this greasy pinkish color.  I didn't notice the rest of her face.  I asked, "What is on your face?"  She says, "My cherry Chapstick."  End of story, she did it because she thought it was "stylish."  Sadly, she looked more clown-ish, and when her brother showed up, I was even more disturbed by his "make up" attempt.  Stylish and fruitish... They both saw that I was not pleased with this choice, and my daughter had this smile on her face, cocked her head, and shook it and said, "This is not good, but it's funny right?"  How could I not laugh.  She just has a way of being a little too mature for her age.  (It's like she is a grown up version of her looking in on her antics sometimes.)  Weird, but yes, funny.  I was grateful that Geoff walked in then.  I am not one to deal with removing that grease from anything.  (I spazz out over petroleum jelly, in it's many forms.)  I have way too many issues to keep up with.  But I have just added Chapstick to it.  Chapstick in the hands of babes now trumps the Chapstick on the list.  Chapstick, in the hands of Scarlett's daughter... The list can go on.