Saturday, August 7, 2010

The Pencil

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We have this game called Things. It came in a neat little bamboo box and inside were the playing cards and 6 little bamboo pencils. It's a game meant for a large group and quite fun to play too, but Morgan prefers the crazy little pencils inside. He's fascinated by them. Infatuated might be more to the point. So much so, he's managed to obtain a few of these pencils and be found making notes, drawing pictures, and doing who knows what around the house with them.

The other night I was exhausted, I mean falling asleep in my chair exhausted. When Mr Scarecrow caught me prying my eyeballs open he suggested I just go to bed. Normally I'd have fought that issue, but two minutes later the phone rang and I knew he'd be on it a while. So I decided to snuggle up in my purple snowman jammies and work on a quilt binding I was desperate to finish.

I had picked up the Road To Avonlea tv series while at the library, so I plugged one into my computer and started working away. Two minutes later the boys were snuggled in the bed with me while we all watched in total angst as children in the video behaved so poorly we were lost for words. The boys couldn't decide if they should giggle or not that other children were fighting and arguing and being all out little terrors. We all feigned interest and the next think I knew Morgan was making inventions (rubber bands, flashlights, and other odd things) while Jayden quickly scribbled things in the notebook that is suppose to be next to the phone for messages. I was honestly too tired to care what they were doing.

About five minutes after their normal bedtime Mr Scarecrow comes running in, now finally off the phone, and declares it's bedtime and could we stop the movie. Everyone looked at him sort of funny and announced that none of us were actually watching the movie. Poor Mr S was heavily confused but ushered two little boys upstairs and tucked them in.

He returns to our bedroom and removes the movie no one was watching for something he tapped off the television. After his show ends and the quilt is packed away, I'm laying on my pillow nursing sore fingers. My fingers were incredibly sore from my incredibly dull needle and I'd managed to slice a gaping hole in my poor pointer finger.

Mr Scarecrow eventually turns off his program and lays down. The room goes completely dark and I'm enjoying those first moments of pure silence and sleep, when Mr Scarecrow jumps up and says, "What poked me!" I'm somewhere between sleep and who really cares, but really did mean to be much more sympathetic to his plight... except words failed me and I'm pretty sure I giggled.

That was my first mistake. You see, the giggle made him think I'd poked him. So he lays back down grumbling and as he rolls over in bed he jumps back up and shouts, "Me eye!" and I think to myself, 'did you really just say 'me eye.' I mean I know you've got lots of British heritage, but you sounded just like your Granny when you said that and besides that it's very poor grammar."  Thankfully, I didn't actually say those words. Unfortunately I said, "Oh don't be silly."

Mr Scarecrows leap of fear when "me eye" was poked caused the pencil to go flying and despite his efforts to find it he couldn't. I'm convinced, at this point, Jayden will get a stern talking to about leaving writing utensils in beds over breakfast, but am fast lulled to sleep by the ever increasing inability to keep my eyes open.

As morning comes there's the typical morning scamper as we fight the hot water (which is gravely on the verge of collapsing), feed people and pets breakfast, do dishes, and attempt to get Mr Scarecrow into the office in a normal fashion. While I'm attempting to hang up wet towels I shout out a reminder that Mr S needs to tape my knee before he heads off to work.

I haven't made the bed yet, so he attempts to straighten it and as I walk in with the dreaded tape he says, "You slept on a pencil last night!" As I'm beginning to have flashbacks to the whole pencil episode I'm reminded that not once had I felt or seen a pencil during the entire situation. So I smile politely and say, "That's nice dear.."

It's then that he pulls back the covers, and there laying on my side of the bed is a small, pointy, bamboo pencil. I resign myself to the fact that the poor man had not only been poked in the eye with a pencil, but he'd proceeded to throw it out of the bed and missed. I consider myself quite lucky not to have been hit in the eye with it too.  As for Jayden.. he's moved on to markers now....

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