Weird and Weirder (in reverse order)

These two anecdotes have no relationship to each other, but for the fact that they are both...weird. Just in time for Halloween. Of course, a picture post with the photos of the season will follow this.

On Sunday we took the kids to the park to celebrate the fact that it was not raining. We brought a picnic along, including "Boo Chips", which are pringle-esque, but shaped like ghosts and jack-o-lanterns. The playground was crowded, as were the benches, but after sufficient running around, we sat at a picnic table and divided up the food. Naomi and I were sitting on one side, both straddling the bench, in her case, because she is too small for a picnic table, so her food was in front of her on the bench, and in my case, because Muriel was strapped on in the front pack, which made facing the table a little awkward. Jim was on the other side, handing out the food.

A few minutes after we began our picnic, a woman who had been sitting on one of the benches near the playground came over and sat at our table (on Jim's side, facing away from the table). I had noticed this woman earlier, because it wasn't clear that she was attached to any of the
kids or families, but was just enjoying the day. And also? Because she was a classic spooky old lady. She was bony, under long skirts and a velvet jacket, grey chin-length curls, a face both wrinkly and sharp, and an impressive nose. I pantomimed to Jim that there was a banana still in the bag, and that he should offer it to her, which he did. She declined the banana, but accepted some Boo Chips.

And so our picnic ensued. The woman did not speak English, but that did not deter her at all from conversing with us in whatever she did speak (something Slavic?), and hand gestures. Naomi and I were sharing an apple, and with the all the cutting pantomime, I really think the lady was trying to say, if you cut me off some of that apple, I'll take some. We didn't have a knife, though, and I am not so brotherhood (sisterhood?) of man as to let a stranger chew from the same piece of fruit as my kid. After a bit, Muriel woke up and began to fuss, as babies do, because her front-pack nap had been inadequate (this baby requires a lot of sleep). The lady kept pointing at me, grabbing her breast, and then making eating motions with her hands. And Jim and I, doing the ridiculously over-friendly smiling and laughing that makes Americans (and their assimilated spouses, heh) look like idiots the world over, pantomimed back the classic going-to-sleep pose (closed eyes, head leaning on folded hands). She's not hungry, she's sleepy. Unconvinced that we had properly understood her, she actually came around the table and pointed at my breast. Check! Understood! Back away!

I took Muriel out of the pack, as she enjoys a sunny day, like most people, and handed her to Jim. The lady said lots of incomprehensible things to Muriel, in a shrill, talking-to-a-baby voice, tried to get Muriel to grab her fingers, and the like. Muriel, though tired, tried to be a
good sport. It was getting late (late for Naomi's nap, that is), so we packed up our stuff and cleaned up, and she saw that we were going to go. She held out her hands to hold Muriel, and Jim relented (what can you do?). She started to sort of toss Muriel in the air (which she is by
no means old enough for), and then stood up with her, and started (jokily?) making off with her. She kept looking back at Naomi and me, and saying something, with a look on her face (again, a joking look?), which I assumed was something like, "Uh oh, I'm stealing the baby, ha ha!" I couldn't tell if she was aiming her joke at Naomi or at me.

Either way, I was totally not down with the joke. I kept saying, "Jim, get our baby." Jim laughed. "Seriously, get our baby." "Seriously, get our baby." I don't know how many times I said, it but over and over, with, I think, a big dumb frozen smile on my face, like I was playing
along. Jim finally got the baby, and we said goodbye, and headed for the car. It's not like she could have run faster than Jim, and somehow actually made off with Muriel. But seriously, don't walk off with someone else's baby! Especially if it seems like you are maybe a little batty and cannot make your comic intentions clear! Or, not with my baby, anyway.

The other weird anecdote stars the other kid. If I have not said it recently, Naomi is a really good kid. But like every two year old, she has a burgeoning reserve of cheekiness that sometimes gets the better of her. The other night I was trying to nurse Muriel, and I asked Naomi to leave the room, because her chirpy chatter is endlessly fascinating to
Murel, who must stop nursing and crane her neck around to try to get a look at her sister. Not only would Naomi not leave, she came over to the bedside table and began to play with a pretty little box of mine. She has previously damaged the lid of this box, and she knows she is not
supposed to touch it. So I said, Naomi, put the lid down. And she held it in her hand, and looked at me, and didn't move. I lost my cool, and raised my voice, and told her again to put it down. And instead of putting it down, she raised the box lid to her mouth and... licked it. Ha!
It was as if I had raised the stakes by yelling at her, and she had to raise them in turn, but couldn't figure out how to make her simple not-listening into something even naughtier. Ah, my creative, weird, cheeky kid.

Happy Halloween!