I ignore our children. Not on purpose. It comes natural to me. Sometimes I feel guilty. I should be entertaining them. Growing them. Teaching them. But my ideas are nothing compared to what they have planned. And really, I’m not your clown. Vacation time now. No school. We leave them to their own and they manage their pleasure, their day. Like those old T.V. programs with children running around solving mysteries with a little dog by their side. You watch one of those shows and think, ” now where the heck are their parents? ” … we’re here. We’re here unblocking them. We are supporting them. Sometimes mysteries need a new iphone app. Or help to light a match for the bon fire. Or a basket to carry all this food. Also, as much as I ignore them, we do things together each day that take minutes and are not status update worthy. Otto helps move the chickens two or three times a day. Zelie helped me feed the calf. Minty looked after her new kitten and also the other pets. The eggs are collected by one of this lot. Dishes unpacked then packed. Customers, meat sales. Phone. Answer the phone! Lucy did the laundry and made the table clean and beautiful. Help me cook with Zelie and Minty. Meal together. Showers, teeth. Then the truth. I hit my kids up hard with comedy. Can they take it?
me: you can fend for yourself now, you’re thirteen. get a job! get out there, rule the world!
lucy: then I won’t get pizza pockets!