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Friday, August 20, 2010

The Runaway


We have this fork.  It is supposed to be used as a relish fork...for spearing pickles and the like.  It was living in the back of a drawer for years, unused, until Mark and Emma found it.

They take turns using it every time we have dessert.  So, often.

Yesterday we were eating slices of Emma's pink birthday cake.  Mark had already dug into his cake when Emma remembered the fork.  She got it.  Mark said, "It's my turn."

To which Emma replied, "You already started eating."

I didn't get involved.  Sometimes I don't have the stamina for fights over forks.

Mark got up and left the table and walked right out the front door.  We all stared at the closed front door for a few seconds and Braeden called out with all the tender concern of an older brother, "Make good decisions!"

Cheeky boy.

Emma calmly kept eating.  Braeden said, "What if you never see him again, Emma?  Will you feel guilty?"

Emma shrugged.  Mark was looking in the window.

Emma said, "Was I ever dramatic like that?"

Oh, my sweet daughter.  Not past tense. You are dramatic like that.

We weren't even done with our cake before Mark came back to the table and huffily started to eat his cake again.  I think it was a wholly unsatisfying runaway experience for him.

If I'd thought for a minute Mark would go further than the front porch I would have gone hurtling after him though.

I can't go long without this boy.

3 comments:

Jennifer said...

I wanted to be the first to like this post, but it said I was my mom... so she got the fame. For the record, I liked it first though.

I wish my kids had stamina for a few extra hours in the car... we'd come visit.

Janet said...

What a handsome boy you have!

Hannah Stevenson said...

I loved what Braeden said...and how calm all of you were. Oh to sit at your dinner table for a bit. I think my cheeks would hurt the whole time.

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