The sun can talk?

Our resident rooster is taking the task of rising with the sun each day a little too seriously. The 5:30 - 6-ish mornings are really getting to us! Hence the need for a parental intervention. It went something like this:

Mummy: When the sun is waking up in the morning, you don't have to wake up, too.

Annie: But it's light.

Daddy: Annie, you can still lay in your bed even if it's not dark outside.

Annie: But it's light.

Daddy, sternly: We want you to stay in your bed until your alarm goes off. (That idea - using an alarm to keep her in her room - wasn't working so well.)

Annie, trying to get her point across: But it's light.

Mummy: Annie, when the sun wakes up, it's saying to you, "Annie, it's too early to get up. You should stay in bed for a while. Just because I'm up doesn't mean you need to get out of bed, too."

That's what the sun is telling you.

Annie, completely awestruck: The sun can talk?!

She still seems to think she's a rooster.

Who sent Annie?

A few mornings ago, after sending my girls off to school, I received a phone call from the secretary at Emi's school. Emi was suffering from one of her migraines; I went post haste to Hazel Grove to bring my child home. I settled Emi in my room - there's something so comforting to a child about laying in mummy and daddy's bed - where she promptly fell asleep and I quietly puttered around the house (okay, okay, so I sank into my favourite chair and lost myself in a gripping novel) for the next hour or so, waiting for Annie's bus to drop her off.

Soon enough, Annie came home from preschool. Emi was still silently resting in my bedroom when Annie crossed the threshold, dropped her backpack on the floor and questioned, "Did you bring Emi home from school?" I was momentarily stunned. How did Annie know Emi was home? Emi hadn't made any noise, her belongings weren't scattered (for once!) Did the house smell different? Did Annie have of x-ray vision? Annie quickly ran down the hall to check on her big sister before eating lunch.

A few minutes later, I peeked in on Emi and told her how Annie somehow was certain that she (Emi) was home. We marveled at how Annie must have known when Emi lowered her voice conspiratorially and dead-panned, "Maybe Annie's an agent baby." Even in a migraine induced stupor, Emi is still convinced that Annie is an alien.....

Is Imitation the Sincerest Form of Flattery?

Annie simply loves make-up. She adores the feel of a soft sponge sweeping across her cheek, the tickle of a fluffy brush dusting her nose. At the sophisticated age of five, Annie has moved beyond mere lipstick and powder. She now artistically accentuates the striking arch of her brow. And to think everything she knows about the fine art of make-up application she has learned by observing me!

"A" as in Alien

Emi has this notion - no, conviction - that we have an alien in our midst, disguised as Annie. In fact, Emi informed me this morning that if a name starts with the letter "A" it means that person is really an alien. She explained further, "'A' was not a letter until the Alien Invasion, which started in colonial times."