For the past two days Boy has had standarized testing at his International School and his mom asked if I would make him have a healthy, protein-y breakfast yesterday so I made him eggs. Unfortunately (for me) there were only two eggs, so when Girl came down and couldn't have eggs she freaked out. I was about to get mad because here she is literally sobbing over not having eggs when I'm upset about my poor dog when Boy interjects with, perhaps the most reasonable thing he's ever said, "Girl, you are really lucky. You don't even know. There are some kids who don't even have breakfast or a house full of food." I almost had to pick my mouth up off the floor (and I know the hissy fit would have been reversed had she had the eggs...).
Later in the afternoon (after the cleaning lady had caught me crying after writing my last post) I was thinking about how weird it will be to go home and not have B.J. there, and how he's been in my family for more than half my life when I asked Girl to please practice the piano.
Conversations on my Dog: (My thoughts, that I kept to myself are in italics.)
Girl: Why do you have tears? Is it because we aren't listening to you?
Jill: Because I'm sad about my dog.
Girl: What's wrong with him?
Jill: He's very sick and won't live much longer.
Girl: And you're sad because you won't get to see him anymore?
Girl: That's the saddest thing I ever heard. I love you, Girl.
Later on Boy started to throw a fit during his homework (because his teacher made him re-do an assignment from last week but "It's unfair because no one else had to re-do it...") I got angry and said, "You have absolutely NO reason to be upset. And seriously, Boy, I am actually upset [commence tears] so do NOT play this game with me right now."
Boy: Wait is it your dad or your dog?
Jill: My dog, if it were my dad I'd already be home. Idiot.
Boy: At least it isn't us that died! Clearly you don't know how many times I've wished you dead, or at least severely maimed.
Girl: Well can you still keep him and play with him?
Jill: No, I don't think so.
Girl: Where will you put him?
Jill: Well maybe bury him or cremate him.
Boy: Yeah that's a great idea! Then he can be in your house and you can still play with him! But you have to go buy him back from the store.
Jill: What are you talking about? What the F&%$ are you talking about?
Boy: You know, have him stuffed!
Jill: We aren't stuffing our dog.
Boy: So one day your parents will wake up and he'll just be dead? I hate you.
Girl: [While drawing pictures of my dog to make a B.J. mobile for me to hang in my room.] Why are you so sad?
Jill: Because we've had him for a long time, and he was my friend.
Girl: He was your friend?!
[Since their dad is vehemently opposed to animals they don't understand the sentimental attachment one can get to an animal. We did "babysit" a rodent (commonly known as a guinea pig) during the summer and the only thing they got from the experience was when I sing, "Her name was Lola!" (The rodent's name) They sing back, "She was a showgirl!"]
Boy: Where will you bury him? With your ancestors? I still hate you.
Girl: [As I am tucking her in.] Jill, are you still sad.
Girl: Will you still be sad tomorrow?
Jill: Yes, I'll be sad for a while I think.
Girl: It's okay, you can be sad forever.
Jill: Yes, Girl?
Girl: I love you.
Jill: Love you too, G.
Can't you tell who I like better? (And now don't you like Girl better, at least a little, too?)