My daughter is going through a phase. It’s just the age, people tell me. She’ll grow out of it. Thing is, I’m not so sure it is just a phase. I think it’s all part of a much grander, devious scheme. You’d think I’m talking about some evil, megalomaniac genius here with what I’m about to say. And to that I’d say ‘Oh, so you’ve met my daughter then?’.
So what’s the phase? Collecting small-to-medium sized stones, filling her pockets with them and then ‘redistributing’ them in useful areas such as car seats, cups, your pockets and in bed (s). What I think her actual plan is: to dig a tunnel with her fellow nursery pupils, so that they can escape from nursery whenever they want.
This occurred to me the other day, after I’d collected her from her maternelle (the French name for nursery) and picked up her coat, as she got out of the car. This is heavy, I thought to myself. I soon realised why, as stone after stone fell out, forming piles on the car park floor. You may think I’m exaggerating by describing it like this, but it looked liked someone was staging a mock-recreation of The Blair Witch’s burial mounds. And that was after a good handful had been left in her seat as well. She just grinned at me, in a slightly sinister all-I’m-lacking-is-a-white-cat-to-stroke kind of way.
Blofeld ain’t got nothing on her, you wait and see.
The neighbour saw me, said hello and looked at what I was doing. I explained the stone-fetish. ‘It’s just the age’ she said to me.
Except she didn’t say it like that – in English – because she’s French.
So a few stones, OK, I get that. But these quantities? It’s been over a week since those stones were left on our – relatively busy – car park and they’re still there, they have strength in numbers you see. Either that or people actually think if they move them the Blair Witch of the car park will get them and…I don’t know, scratch their cars? Adjust their seats? Tune their radio-stations to a channel that plays Clean Bandit’s Symphony on an endless loop?
I can just picture her though, sat in a chair while drinks are brought to her, hunched over her tunnel-plans, gaining favour amongst her peers with her scheme to tunnel to the playground. All the while hiding this in plain sight by having all the kids ‘redistribute’ the displaced stones in useful areas that they will blend in to with ease, such as baths, stairs, inside shoes and underneath car brake pedals. She’ll egg them on with promises of slides, sunshine, fun and games and no adults around.
All the while hatching her master plan.
To have the tunnel emerge in the local chocolatier’s parlour…
I’m sure I’m wrong though, it’s probably just a phase. That’s what everybody keeps telling me anyway…
Never let her watch Sharshank Redemption (Stephen King title probably spelled wrong). The guy digs a tunnel out of his jail cell and carries the dirt out one pocketfull at a time and puts it in the work yard. Maybe a phase?
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I did actually have a gradual, three step plan, to putting that on: 1. Shaun The Sheep Movie (little bit of escaping from prison cells in there) 2. Chicken Run (the whole film is set in a ‘prison’) 3. Shawshank Redemption. I might need to add a few steps….
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I completely forgot about Chicken Run. My nieces wouldn’t let their kids watch Chicken Run because they were afraid they wouldn’t want to eat chicken anymore. “I don’t want to be a pie, I don’t like gravy!”
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I won’t lie, I did wonder of it would put me off chicken pies and to this day – as the gravy runs down my chin – I think of those chickens.
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We have a Tyson’s chicken processing plant about 30 miles away. I would not be able to each chicken if I had to see their little faces. I just can’t look in their little faces.
https://writingforme1961.wordpress.com/2017/05/10/a-mouse-in-the-house/
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That reminds me of when one of the local cats brought a mouse home as ‘tribute’ for its owner – in front of my kids. I had to interfere with the natural order of things when I realised it was still alive, I wasn’t having that kind of national geographic action in front of the kids! They don’t do themselves any favours though, do they? I managed to get him out of the cats paws and then he ran right back! I did get him away in the end, his fate is in his own (paws?) hands now.
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Hi Phil based in France now! Good for you. Ha ha your daughter is probably attracted to the stones…are they odd shapes and or shiny or colored? Maybe it intrigues her๐
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No! I could understand that. They aren’t particularly odd shaped, or shiny or coloured. If you walk along a road – any road – and look down you’ll see lots and lots of bland stones: that’s what she’s filling her pockets with!!!
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Ohh…Then you will have your hands full of stones for her to build something…a future architect๐
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To be honest I think my son will be the architect. My daughter is definitely more of the demolitions persuasion ๐
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Haha! ๐
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They start out small and increase the rock size. My daughter, from about 5 or 6 (now almost 12), has larger rocks. I cleaned her room one day and there was a good size rock in one of her purses. Then she put a similar one in my truck console. I’m thinking….could she be planning a head bashing? So, yes, it’s just a phase, but it’s definitely not just an innocent plot. Of course, being a mom of 5, I’m a bit jaded by kid thought processes. LOL
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They increase the rock size????? Oh dear, I shall have to monitor her shopping habits, make sure she doesn’t start specifying articles of clothing with ‘really, really big pockets’! Mom of 5? Blimey, well done! I can just about imagine having one more than my current 2…but 5? Hat’s off to you ๐
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It’s not the clothing, it’s the purses. They can be portable then. My youngest is the only one to do this though. So there is hope. ๐
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Hmmm…I hadn’t even considered that as a potential place for rock-storage…must just nip and check the purses. And the rucksacks.
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Let’s just say, raising girls is a bit more challenging than raising boys. You can do it, but expect the unexpected. Girls are good for throwing you for a loop and you are like, “what just happened?”
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