I love girls. They are so completely different from boys.
Each gender has their own unique, wonderful qualities.
But girls can be weird. And fun.
And they keep themselves entertained- especially if they have another girl to use their imagination with.
....with which to use their imagination?
Case in point: A typical Saturday morning- household projects and chores to attend to.
My girls always seem to be ready for anything their dad is working on.
The boys used to be, when they were younger, but they outgrew it.
Probably because their dad requires a lot more of them.
(I seem to have the same effect on the girls.)
On this particular Saturday morning, one of the chores that needed done was chipping out the ice from the animals' water tank.
Winter in cold states requires a lot of work for animal care.
It's not always fun, let me tell you.
And using tank heaters can put your electric bill through the roof.
So we often choose good old-fashioned hard work.
And the girls were excited to help their dad.
Dressed in short sleeves and their new Christmas vests....
I didn't say they were always smart.
(Plus the hard work kept them warm.)
They begged for the opportunity to use the axe (under Dad's watchful care)
One would chip the ice, the other shovel it out.
Efficient. Hard-working. Girls.
The funny (and weird) part came when they realized they could make it all a game.
They begged their dad to yell out commands like, "Get to work you lazy dogs!"
"This is coming out of your pay!"
"Work harder or I'll throw you back out on the street!"
Laughing, The Man of the House tried it a few times.
But the morning was quiet....and he was afraid the neighbors might hear.
Still, they begged for more insults.
And I was reminded of my childhood.
When my sister and I would pretend we were blind
or had impairments of some sort.
Or that we were over-worked servants. Very Cinderella-esque.
Any opportunity- like Mom having us wash dishes or fold laundry- resulted in an imagined reality.
Called to dinner we were school teachers or secretaries on our lunch break.
We even had Mom pour our water/milk/juice in wine glasses.
(Didn't all grown up, professional women drink wine on their lunch break?)
We even renamed our little brother in order to accept him into our imagined reality. He became "Jonathan" and was occasionally our son or servant or a messenger from the king.
(When the princes were requesting our presence at the castle, of course.)
The problem was, he was really little....and started asking to be called 'Jonafan.'
Mom finally asked us to call him by his real name.
But it was a great childhood!
And the fact that my girls are now enjoying theirs...is wonderful.