Nevergirl's

This morning, I woke up early because I fell off the bed really early. I think I broke a hip bone; I’ve been walking around the house with an odd gait since I landed on the floor so ingloriously. Sometime during the night, the kids crept into our bed. By morning, they’d taken over so much space I ended up a crumpled heap on the floor. Did I mention we slept with a doll, too? Yes, Charlie’s doll named DOLL (hahaha!) mysteriously ended up on our bed, too.

I have this niggling suspicion this battle for territory will end badly. For me, anyway. Every night, the girls cook up as many reasons as they can to stay in our bedroom. I shrug away stories of winged creatures, mysterious noises, and walking furniture, naturally, but it’s getting harder not to be impressed by their excuses. These two are just too darned creative! A few days ago, Alex said they need to sleep on our bed because God told her to. Since when has the Lord Almighty been conversing with my daughter? I told her to keep it under wraps or they’ll burn her at the stake. Or in the kitchen, after they’ve marinated her in salt and vinegar.

Yes, Alex, your mom does colorful storytelling, too.

So, anyway, I’m realizing my daughters are odd little people. Just this morning, Alex announced quite dramatically over breakfast, “I think we can use Charlie to make money.”

I snorted. “How? Sell her?”

“No, no. People find her cute so we make a booth, and we put Charlie there, and anyone who wants to kiss her can kiss her but first, they have to pay five pesos.”

I wonder how Charlie would feel about being made the backbone of her sister’s financial plan. I wonder, too, why this daughter inherited the Kong business gene when the man didn’t. Maybe it’s true. Business acumen, like madness, sometimes skips a generation or two. I better go make sure my other daughter’s still inside the house. Alex may have put her up for sale somewhere.