Of Cards and Werewolves...That's My Girl...

      It's always a struggle to get them both up and going in the morning. The Boy doesn't care about seasonal repercussions anymore but Izzy can, thankfully, still be swayed.
      Daddy: "Are you finished your breakfast?"
      Isobel: "Yep!"
      Daddy: "Then why are you just sitting on the couch? You should be putting your dishes in the dishwasher or getting dressed or brushing your teeth."
      Isobel: "OK, Daddy."
      Daddy: (5 minutes later) Isobel! Why are you just sitting on the couch? Get dressed."
      Isobel: "OK Daddy."
      Daddy: You know, it is getting to that time of year when being good and bad counts. If you are bad, Santa won't tell the baby jesus to ride to our house on his magical bunny and give us all tuna sandwiches."
      Isobel: "..."
       Daddy: "Didn't you hear what I said?"
       Isobel: "I heard you, I was just wondering what was wrong with you?"

      It's inevitable really, children just want to do things with you. I have lost many games of risk and monopoly and purposely made myself seem as dumb as possible, all for the sake of the children's self esteem. I am totally fine with it. The Boy had his issues with losing when he was younger and he didn't take it well so we all, some of us more begrudgingly than others, took it on the chin and let him win. There was a point however, that I wouldn't play games with him because he insisted on winning all the time and threw a great wrangy fit if he didn't. He was younger then and so was I, parentaly speaking. I get it now-which is kind of a shame because now I quite enjoy the few times he actually wants to play anything with me and he has become a very gracious loser. Though he seldom loses at anything anymore.
      Isobel has always had an easier go of losing at games, she's more like me I think. She enjoys the competition alright but it isn't about winning so much as it is about just being there and doing it. So when she asked to start playing 'Go Fish' with us I knew we wouldn't have a problem getting her to stick with the rules. As it turns out, Oma had taught her the game some time ago but I was suspect of the rules she was shown. It would be just like my Mother-in-Law to slip in some sort of odd Dutch variant to the game.
     The rules remained intact and Izzy and I sat down on the couch to play.
      "Now Daddy, don't cheat. Don't look at my cards while I'm not looking because that is against the rules." she explained.
      "I wouldn't dream of cheating," I said. "I will play fairly and you should too."
      "OK, let's just play." she said.
      I could go on and on and on and tell you the intricacies of the game we played...and I was tempted to do so but anybody old enough to read this blog that is not familiar with the game play of 'Go Fish', has much bigger problems to worry about. Like finding their way out of that cave.
      "Oh boy!" Isobel exclaimed. "I only have three cards left, I'm going to win."
      "You only have three cards left in your hand but you have nine cards on the table."
      "Oh yeah...crap. I still have three aces and three queens and three nines."
       "You're not supposed to tell me what your cards are." I told her.
       "Right, sorry."
       "Have you got any nines?" I asked.
      "Nope, go fish." she replied.
      "You don't have any nines? Are you sure about that? What about the ones on the table?"
      "How do you know I have nines on the table? You looked at my cards! You're not supposed to do that!" she said indignantly.
       "Izzy you told me all of the cards you have, three nines, three aces and three queens."
       "I told you?" she asked.
       "Yep."
       "Well that was pretty dumb." she said.
      We're going to wait a couple more years for Vegas.
      Before we sat down to play cards, Izzy was outside. It being the time of year it is, it was starting to get dark even before Mrs. Narrator got home.
      "Time to come in you," I said. "It's getting dark and soon the werewolves will come out and you don't want to be out here when they do."
      "Why don't I want to be out when they come?" she asked.
      I forgot for a moment that this is my kid and he question took me off guard.
     "Do you want to be ripped to shreds by snarling fangs and claws?"
      "I'm not scared of wolves." she said.
      "Do you want to see your neighbours ripped apart? They'll go after the neighbours if they can't get you."
       "Pfft, yes!' she sputtered.
     I sighed a big sigh.
      "Just come in then."
      I love this kid.

      We have been watching the tragedy that is the end of Biebomez with relish. OK, really we don't give a whole lot of shit about what happens with Selena or Justin or what they are or aren't doing to/with/without/for/against each other. it happened to be on the T.V. when Izzy came in to ask me to play wii kendo with her.
      "I think I want to punch Justin Bieber," she said.
      "What?" I asked.
      "I think I want to punch Justin Bieber...in the mouth, right in the mouth."
      "I think there are a lot of people that want to punch Justin Bieber." I said.
      "Really?" she asked.
      "Really." I said.
      "Why do they want to punch him?"
      "Probably because he's a really annoying little twit." I said.
       "Yep that's a good reason too," she said. "I just think he's creepy and that makes me want to punch him."
   I really love this kid.