Suddenly I tuned in, realizing Brooklynne was talking about her duck. The arm had fallen off and she was going to give it to Grandma to sew back on.
Panic surged through me. I've been throwing things away constantly around here and the memory of a small fuzzy thing which very well could have been a ducks arm being tossed into the trash came to mind.
"Is it green?" I asked casually.
"Yes," she answered and more panic ensued.
"I threw it away," I blurted out. "I'm so sorry, Brookie. I didn't realize..."
Her face. Oh my gosh, her face. The horror. I gulped and tried to talk my way out of it.
"Brookie, so many people don't have an arm or leg, and they make it through their lives just fine." (seriously? this was my defense? It was a 50 cent duck from one of those lame machines. REALLY?!)
The tears continued, despite my best efforts to reassure her that a one-armed-green-duck was just as good as a 2 armed duck. And while we're on the subject, who ever knew that ducks had ARMS?! Not me, or I wouldn't have thrown it away.
A few minutes later it dawned on me that the missing arm had been thrown out late in the day the day before, so there couldn't have been much trash on top of it. When she wasn't looking, I opened the trash, fished through cracked egg shells, a dirty diaper and coffee grounds to find the small fuzzy green thing. There sat the beloved arm, untouched by the gross trash and still looking alive and well. Well, as much as a severed arm can look. I plucked it out as relief washed over me and called her back into the kitchen. You would have thought I just rescued out dog out of the trash. I was smiling, she was smiling, she was hugging me and I promised to safety pin the arm back on as soon as I could.
Thankfully, the rest of the week has been quite uneventful and we've long forgotten about the almost permanently one-armed green duck.
The weather here has been awesome, which means the first picnic of the year happened and it always gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.
Going for sissie's food
There is something about the kids being outside that helps them play so well together. Yesterday while both of them were swinging, Brooke's flip-flop kept falling off. Joe would get off the swing, kneel down, slide it back on her foot and then hop back on his swing. Several times, until finally, (huge sigh) "Brookie, this is my last time doing this, OK?" It was the sweetest thing to watch and made me so proud to be their Mom.
Hope you all are having a great week!