They don’t write manuals for this.
We went to a rummage sale down the street (ok, the next farm road down, about 2.5 miles away, but it counts, right?) this afternoon. The kids all took their wallets, excited for the treasure they might find. Liberty bought, wait for it… zipper pj’s. You know, the really fuzzy footed ones. In a 10/12. Liberty is not a 10/12. But she’s excited – she can wear them when she’s, oh, 15. But in the 105 degree heat, they looked quite ugly to me. Quite. She tried them on at home… that’s a picture that would be worth a thousand words. I’ll take one… after I wash them. They smell a bit like someone smoked a whole lot of cigarettes in their near vicinity. Eww.
So, to get back to the manual I don’t have, Ruby found straw bowls. She’s always wanted one. You know, the plastic cereal bowls with the straw down the side. The ones I’ve never bought because, really? Why do we need bowls with straws attached? There was a blue one and a green one, marked $0.25 and Ruby was thrilled. She picked the blue one, Sterling decided he needed a green one, and off they went. 10 minutes later, when we were headed to pay for our $1.10 in merchandise and Sterling decided he did not want to green bowl. Ok… Ruby said she’d buy both. They charged her $0.25 for both.
So we get home and Ruby has two bowls. Sterling grabbed the green bowl, starting to scrub it and was really upset when I told him it was not his bowl. He exclaimed, “But I want it! I just wanted Ruby to pay for it!” Umm, yeah, but no. Ruby bought it, Ruby gets it. Sterling is moping, Ruby’s ready to give him the bowl – because when Sterling is sad, anyone who sees that face will want to cry with him. But that’s not the point. I told him if he wanted the bowl, he had to ask Ruby if he can buy it. Much moping later, Sterling asked if he could buy the bowl, the price was set at $0.15 and he gave her the money. And wailed. And wailed and wailed and wailed. He couldn’t part with his coins. In the end, he took back his nickel and dime, gave the bowl back, and declared “I really don’t like goat’s milk anyway, so I don’t want to drink it out of my cereal.” To which Ruby replied, “But I don’t need two bowls.” So now… nobody is happy. Perfect.
With the amount of fighting going on between Sterling and Ruby in my house these days, you’d think I’d get better at mediating. But I’m horrible at it. I will never, ever run for judge. Solomon’s wisdom, I have not.