I TOLD you it’s not ALL Mary Poppins…

I am busy clearing the table in preparation for lunch. Everyone is playing except Arthur, who is sitting on the quiet stair for having repeatedly jumped on the couch. Katie is hanging around close to him. Too close, in fact: the quiet stair is a time out, not an occasion for visiting. But I’m busy, and I’ll be calling them all to lunch in about 68 seconds, so I let it go.

Then, suddenly, Arthur is laughing. You have to understand about Arthur: while he has, like every small child, a delightful small-child gurgle of a laugh, he also has this other one. This laugh would have you who don’t know him wincing; it has me, who does know him, grinding her teeth. It’s a loud, grating, HEE-HAW bray of a laugh, and it always, always, always means he is involved in something dopey.

So now I have to investigate. On the floor in front of him are the contents of my purse. I have two purses, a very small one which I commonly use, and a larger backpack one for longer outings when I have more to carry and want both hands free. It is this larger, often unused purse, that is scattered. Bus tickets, my birth certificate, a cheque book, a tampon, a lip liner pencil, change purse…the usual purse detritus litter the floor before a delighted Arthur. “Arthur, did you do this?”

“No,” he says. “Katie did.” I’m dubious. If he didn’t start it, he surely participated.

I catch a blur of pink and blue as Katie darts past, humming to herself. Now, the pink is understandable, since that’s all the kid ever, ever wears, but blue? Kind of a metallic blue. And she’s not humming; in fact, it’s not Katie making that noise, it’s more of a mechanical buzz, and it’s coming from the thing in her hand. That metallic blue, buzzing item in her hand.

Damn. I’d totally forgotten THAT was in my purse!

Thank God it’s not parent-time.