Those Who Cannot Do, Teach

I came across this gem on Margot's desk the other day.  Note that her continued refusal to bend to conventional rules of spelling does not interfere with her assumption of an academic leadership position.  Failure to understand basic concepts of geography is also (apparently) irrelevant to her status as an instructor.

Zombie Details

This morning's argument (I'm as confused as you are by Margot's opening statement):

Margot (staring in mirror):  "Ugh.  I don't even look like a zombie."
Claire:  "I think you do."
Margot:  "Claire, no I don't.  And anyway zombies don't have heads."
Claire:  "They do too have heads!"
Margot:  "No, they don't."
Claire:  "Well, Michael Jackson has a head in the "Thriller" video."
Margot:  "Duh, Claire - Michael Jackson is a fake zombie.  Real zombies don't have heads."

Accountability

Our super-nanny, Lindsay, recently volunteered to take the girls to clean out our car before we headed off on a weekend trip.  I (of course) took her up on the offer, so they headed to the carwash after school one day.

Claire:  "Why do we have to go to the carwash?  It's boring."   
Lindsay:  "Because we're getting the car ready for your trip." 
Claire:  "I heard mom specifically say that you were going to clean the car - not us." 
Lindsay:  "Claire, you need to help because it's important for you to learn accountability." 
Claire:  "What's accountability?" 
Lindsay:  "If you know you will be responsible for the mess you create in the car, then you will probably be more careful in the future.  I'm rarely in your car, so why should I be responsible for all of the cleaning?" 
Claire:  "Okay, I understand now.  So, can you clean the car, and we'll just watch so we know what to do next time? " 
Lindsay:  "Claire, get in the car." 
Claire (muttering):  "Geez, don't you find humor in any of this?"

Good vs. Evil

Today's sisterly exchange could be read to suggest many things.  At a minimum, it portends the return of Jane's recently-dormant violent tendencies:
 
Margot (to Jane):  "Kit Kittredge is a superhero.  She is flying to give a punch to the evildoer, Jane."
Jane:  "Jane has a cat that will hit Kit.  And a pig, a strong one.  One that can break Kit and get her to howl."
Margot:  "Kit has a special platypus in a tank."  [Apparently, the platypus is some sort of protective creature.]
Claire (annoyed):  "That's a duck."
Margot (unperturbed):  "It's a duckapus."

Eat Your Vegetables on November 11

As I was getting dressed this morning, Jane observed that, even though Mommy and Daddy were going to work, she did not have to go to school.  When I asked her if she knew why school was closed, she promptly replied, "Yes - because it's Vegitary Day."

Her vegetarian grandparents will undoubtedly be proud that Jane didn't even question the notion that an entire urban school system would devote a day to honoring vegetables.

In Which My Cooking Skills Are Insulted (Again)

I may have reached a new low on the cooking front:  Jane just offered to pay me not to make dinner.  When I declined her offer (in the amount of one dollar), she took a harder line and announced that, if I dared to make the chili that I was in the process of assembling, she would not, in the future, give me any money - ever.  She then poured herself a bowl of cheerios.

I suggested that she put the Cheerios away and reiterated that we - all of us - were going to have chili.  She brought in reinforcements.  Claire rushed in and decried the unfairness of it all:  "Two of us - Jane and me - do not want chili.  Only one person - Margot - does.  So, you should not be making chili."  (Don and I apparently hold only non-voting roles in the family.)  I continued with the chili-making process.

Claire gave up and left.  Jane sat sullenly at the table, swirling her Cheerios around in the bowl and thoughtfully lining up her last-ditch attempt to salvage dinner. 

Jane:  "Mommy, you know what?"
Me:  "Jane, I don't want to discuss the chili any more."
Jane:  "I'm not discussing the chili."
Me:  "Okay, what?"
Jane:  "I just want you to know that my mouth is really happy right now without any chili in it."

Harry Potter Fans Unite

Me:  "Margot, come brush your teeth - we're running late."

Margot:  [silence]

Me:  "Margot?  Are you coming?"

Margot:  [silence]

Me:  "Margot, come on!"

Margot:  "Mommy?  I was just thinking.  We are so lucky that we know the truth."

Me:  "The truth about what?"

Margot:  "The truth about Peter Pettigrew."

Me:  [silence]

Home is Where the Heart Is

A daily entry in the Writer's Notebook is part of Claire's third-grade homework routine.  I love this notebook, because it gives me a glimpse into her thinking that I wouldn't otherwise have.  Here are two of my recent favorites:

What Do I Like About Where I Live?
My climbing tree
My nice neighbors
Our house's 11 best hiding places
The way you can see the sunset from the end of the street
Our downhill-going street
My room

Is Family Important? Why?
Family is important because if you didn't have family, you would be lonely and unhappy. Family is important also because if you don't have family, you won't learn how to take care of yourself. You also won't have anybody to play with, and you won't have anybody to help you meet new friends. You also will not have anybody to kiss you goodnight.

A Candid Assessment

Don and I had friends over for dinner recently - at a time when he and I were both pretty swamped at work.  As I was apologizing for the fact that all of our dinner napkins were in the dirty laundry, Claire leaned over to her friend Suki and said in stage whisper, "Suki, I'm sorry - I must confess that our house is currently in a state of disrepair."

How to Terrify Your Little Sister's Friends

My friend recently informed me that her daughter, Avery (age 4) had asked whether she could have a play date with Jane.  This wasn't an unusual request; our families often hang out together.  Jane and Avery are excellent collaborators when it comes to (a) sweetly caring for their many baby dolls; and (b) viciously excluding Avery's little brother from everything they do.

A family get-together seemed in order - until it became clear that Jane was welcome, but the jury was still out on Claire.  The reason?  According to Avery, "Claire knows how to kill people."

Kitchen Lessons

Because Don is amazing in the kitchen and does virtually all of the chef-related work at our house, my children operate under the not-unreasonable belief that I can't cook.  They were both pleased and supportive this week when I undertook to make several omelets.  Margot perched beside me the entire time, offering helpful comments like, "Okay, good.  That's good, Mommy.  Now take that flipper thing and put it under the omelet so you can turn it over.  Great, Mom - you're doing great."

I served the omelets, and the girls marveled at how great they looked.  Margot offered to call Don and announce my accomplishment, and Claire observed that "Daddy is going to be ectastic when he hears about this!"  They began to eat, and Margot looked up.

Margot:  "Mommy?  I want to talk to you about this omelet."
Me:  "Okay."
Margot:  "Well, it's made of the same ingredients Dad uses.  That's good."
Me:  "Thanks."
Margot:  "It does also smell like Dad's omelets smell."
Me: [waiting]
Margot:  "And, it does look a lot like the omelets Daddy makes.  So . . . that's a good start, okay?"
Me:  "Okay."
Margot:  "But Mommy?  I have to tell you - it doesn't taste as good as Dad's.  It really doesn't."
[pause]
Margot:  "I just thought you should know."

Updates to the Wiest-ette Vocab List

Vocab girl on day one of pre-K

The Wiest-ette vocab list continues to expand.  I discovered a new favorite this morning, when I came into the kitchen and found Margot and Jane bitterly arguing over whether Jane had to eat the "Raisin Brain" that Margot had served her for breakfast.  Jane also insisted for all of August that she had to wear a life jacket so that she would not "shrink" to the bottom of Auntie Karyn's pool, and that her baby dolls were nursing by drinking milk from her "nibble."  Here's the recap:

• bagiant = vagina. Most effective use requires shouting this word, preferably in a grocery store or other public place -- e.g., "Mommy, you SEE my ba-GIANT??" (Jane)
• belly suit = bathing suit. Reflects the fact that one's belly is covered by a one-piece swimsuit, but also involves some confusion with "ballet suit" (a/k/a "leotarn").  (Jane)
• calicounter = calendar (Jane)
• diamond room = dining room (Jane)
• fake noodles = Fig Newtons. You can't imagine the confusion this one caused before we finally figured it out.  (Jane)
• fighterman = spiderman (Margot)
• fire executioner = fire extinguisher (Claire)
• leotarn = leotard (Claire)
• matilda = Nutella.  As in, "Can I have Matilda on my popover?"  We are pleased to see that this one has gained some traction with Jane's friend, Louisa, and her family.  (Jane)
• Magic Flag = American Flag (Jane)
• meaniac = one who is mean (all three)
• nibble = nipple.  As in, "This baby bottle needs a new nibble."  (Jane)
  
• nike (rhymes with bike) = nightgown.  Perhaps from mis-hearing "nightgown" as "nike on"? (Jane)
• nufkin = nothing, i.e., the opposite of "sumpkin" (Jane)
• pokey-tot = polka dot (Jane)
• president = present.  As in "I opened my birthday presidents yesterday." (Jane)
• Raisin Brain =  Raisin Bran (Margot)
• rudiecat = a person who behaves rudely - e.g., "MOM! Margot is being a rudiecat." (Claire)
• shrink = sink - e.g., "you will shrink to the bottom of the pool if you don't wear a life jacket!" (Jane)
• sumpkin = something, i.e., the opposite of "nufkin" (Jane)
• sun roof = sun room (Claire). As in, "Mommy, can you get the beach toys out of the sun roof so we can take them with us?"
• sunbird = sunburn (Jane)
• wash closet = washcloth (Jane)
• wrascalin' = rascal + wrestling (Jane). As in, "the puppies are wrascalin' again!"

Tell it Like It Is

When Lindsay picked the girls up from school yesterday, she made her usual inquiries about how each girl's day had gone.  Claire observed that she'd had quite a bad morning - which was completely true.  She was in rare form for both obstinacy and backtalk, and I was not exactly diplomatic in my response.  She then followed up by cheerfully (and competitively) noting that Margot had had "an even worse morning."  Margot promptly explained that this was not true at all - and that "Claire had used up all of Mom's patience - so there wasn't any left when she got to me."

Our Community Activist

Claire, Ollie & Hugo at the Walk for Animals

Those of you who know Claire know that her passion for reusing and recycling is second only to her enthusiasm for all things animal-related - and, in particular, all things related to Ollie and Hugo.  I was, therefore, not really surprised when she recently told me that she wished people could marry dogs, because Ollie "would just make such a great husband, wouldn't he, Mom?!"

She's also put her money where her mouth is, and this weekend embarked on her first-ever act of charitable fundraising by participating in the MSPCA's Walk for Animals.  She wrote up the text for her own fundraising web page and began soliciting donations (including by using me as her email and FB-posting agent!)  She set - and exceeded - a goal of $200.  She learned yesterday that she can still raise money through the end of the month, so she raised her goal to $300; she met that, and has just informed me that it is now $400.  (I'm also her webmaster, so she had to instruct me to make the change on her little thermometer-measure that shows how close she is to her goal).  The Walk was fantastic - a beautiful fall day, with 2000 people and 1000 dogs circling the Boston Common - happy chaos!  The highlight for me, though, was seeing her beaming as she crossed the "finish line" and said, "Mommy, can you believe how much money I raised to help animals?!"

Lesson (Not) Learned - Part II

Fashionista in a cabbage-leaf hat

Several of you have asked if Claire ever executed a follow up prank.  She did.  I learned of it when I went to get myself a glass of orange juice - and did a double-take because the juice looked sort of weird and greenish.  I then noticed that the milk also looked wrong (it was a bright, sort of kelly green), and that the water pitcher was full of something looked like water - except for the fact that it was dark red . . . You get the drift.

My mother (unwisely, in my view) chose to support this new obsession  while we were on vacation in Michigan.  I know this because I overheard her say things like, "Jane, what color do you want in your milk?" and "Margot, does that lemonade look orange enough?"  Thanks, Mom!


p.s.  Thanks for the many notes (complaints?) about the appalling shortage of blog posts in July and August - and, yes, Legia, this includes you, even though you sent yours via a third party.  :)  I've truly been in summer mode, but will try to get back on my game.

Non-Mystery Notes

Margot's note-writing has progressed by leaps and bounds.  She's moved from the mystery notes (which tended to be both anonymous and nearly incomprehensible) to the slightly more targeted spy notes, to a new, clearly-articulated sort of warning/menacing note.

Key improvements include an identifiable target audience (i.e., anyone standing outside Margot's door), the correct spelling of 50% of the words, and the incorrect (yet completely readable) misspelling of the rest of the words.

Lesson (Not) Learned

On Monday, I came home from work  and went to the kitchen sink for a glass of water.  I turned on the tap and was immediately drenched.  The faucet's spray nozzle was pointed directly at me, and the handle had been clamped down with a rubber band.

I immediately sought out the most obvious suspect - Claire.  When I asked her whether she was responsible, she promptly admitted culpability.  She could barely keep the grin off her face as she realized her prank (which she'd read about in a book and deemed "hilarious") had been successful.  I calmly discussed why the trick wasn't actually a great idea:  "What if I'd been getting ready to leave for an important meeting and had to go back to change my clothes and then I was late?  What if I'd been wearing a silk blouse that couldn't get wet?"  She ruefully claimed to to see the error of her ways; I was pleased with my calm and effective handling of the situation.  Until about two days later, when I learned about this conversation:

Claire:  "Hey, Lindsay, I read this thing called 'take a shower' in a book and I tried it. It's where you put a rubber band on the spray part of the sink then sit back and watch someone turn it on."
Lindsay (our super-nanny):  "How'd that work out for you?"
Claire:  "Mission accomplished.  Mom . . . got . . . soaked!!"
Lindsay (trying not to laugh):  "Hmm. I'm not sure that was such a good idea - I think Mom is the last person you'd want to have get mad at you."
Claire:  "But it was extremely successful - although she was mad."
Lindsay:  [silence]
Claire:  "And, wait until you see the next prank - it's going to be even better."

(And note that I'm not even getting into the fact that both my nanny and my husband thought that this whole incident was, in fact, hilarious.)

Seasickness

J

Jane:  "Mommy, I'm going on a rain hunt - to find rain."

Me:  "Ok.  Where exactly are you going?

Jane:  "I'm just going in the front yard.  Don't worry, you won't be seasick."

Me:  "I won't be seasick?"

Jane:  "Yes.  Daddy was seasick when Claire went into the back yard; that's why I'm staying in the front yard."

Me:  "Uh-huh.  How does that keep me from being seasick?"

Jane:  "Because - you're on the front porch.  You can see me from there."

Creative License

One of my children, who shall remain nameless, was apparently exasperated by being forced to play "Duck, Duck, Goose" at day camp.  She decided to liven the game up when her turn came - by calling out, "Penis, Penis, Vagina!"

Needless to say, this hilarious tactic was not especially well-received by the counselors.

Housekeeping Advice

Margot:  "Mom, you really need to sweep beneath my bureau."

Me:  "Why?"

Margot:  "Because - it is completely full of dust mice under there!"

Marriage Plans

Jane:  "Why is Margot saying she wants to marry Eric when I’m going to marry him?"

Eric: "Jane, I can just marry both of you."

Jane: "But I’m going to marry David, too."

Eric:  "I know David, so that’s fine."

Jane (flinging back of hand over forehead):  "this is so confusing . . ."

The Burdens of the Middle Child

Me:  "Margot, I'm going to Washington, DC early tomorrow morning, so I may not see you before you go to school - but I'm just going for the day, so I'll be back before you go to bed."

Margot:  "Oh, Mommy, I'm going to miss you so much!!"

Me:  "I'll miss you, too - "

Margot:  "I'm going to miss you as much as a baby piglet would miss its mother, if the mother had a lot of other piglets and wasn't paying very much attention to that piglet.  Because baby pigs really love their mothers, you know?  And if they don't get a lot of attention from their mothers, they really, really miss them.  I'm going to miss you that much, Mom - I really am."

Note to self:  plan one-on-one activity with Margot ASAP.

Gender Differences & Analytical Processes

Jane:  "I like to drink milk, and pretend it's chocolate.  And, it's soooo yummy, but it's really good because it's like you have chocolate milk, but it's healthy."

Eric (Jane's friend):  "I don't think about all that, I just drink my chocolate milk."

A New Role for Daddy

Today Margot's class had a field trip to the Museum of Fine Arts, which prompted this conversation:

Margot:  "Mommy, is Dad going to be a mascot for my field trip, or not?  I really want him to."

Me:  "A what?"

Margot:  "A mascot.  You know, one of the parents who comes along on the trip to help watch the kids."

Allergy Season

Jane:  ''This morning my eye was itchy and it felt like allergies.  I told my mom and she said it wasn't allergies - but it was."
 

Lindsay:  ''What do eye allergies feel like?"

Jane:  "Like my eye wanted to sneeze.''

Of Vampires and Virgins

Claire:  "Margot, I read in the Guinness Book of World Records that there was a woman who practiced vampirism and that she killed over 600 virgins.''

Margot:  "What's a virgin?"

Claire:  ''It's a woman who has never been married . . . I think.  Or a woman from Virginia.''

Today's Factoid

From Jane:

"Mommy, the best thing about me is that I'm really easy to carry."

(This is totally false.  She's actually really heavy.)

Let's Talk About Feelings

Jane is obsessed with candy - it's second only to her obsession with babies.  The other night she came wandering out of her room about 30 minutes after she'd been put to bed.

Jane:  "Mommy, can I have some candy?"
Me:  "No, of course not."
Jane:  "Please?  I love candy."
Me:  "No.  Go back to bed."
Jane:  [stomps to her room]

Five minutes later, she reappears, looking very unhappy and says to me, "Mommy, I want to talk to you about my feelings."  I feel bad for being short with her, and am ready to apologize.

Me:  "Okay, sweetie.  How are you feeling?"
Jane (pausing):  "Well . . . I'm feeling like I want some candy."

Vocab 101

Claire asked if she could have oatmeal for dinner tonight.  This was noteworthy because, after approximately eight years of being an avid oatmeal-eater, she has spent the last two months insisting that she actually hates oatmeal.

Margot:  "Claire, you said you don't like oatmeal anymore."
Claire:  "Well, I don't.  But I'm trying to get my taste buds re-adjusted to it.  Then I'll like it again."
Margot:  "You're getting your what re-adjusted?"
Claire:  "My taste buds."
Margot:  "Um, Claire?  I think you mean taste bugs."

When Does the Party Start?

Margot at her finest.  I think the addition of the vocals means that this tops even her best Erasure-fueled disco moves.

Sisterly Advice

Tonight Margot was working on her "reading contract," which is a one-page chart on which she records what she's read each day of the week.  As is often the case with Margot, it was a drama-laden event.

Me:  "Margot, can you finish filling in your reading contract?"
Margot (wailing):  "Mommy!!  I can't do it.  I can't remember what I read on Tuesday, I just can't."
Me:  "Margot, calm down and think about what you read last night before you went to bed."
Margot:  "Oh, I can't do it!  I just can't remember, it's too hard!"
Claire:  "Margot, just persevere."

Mystery Notes Take a New Turn

In keeping with the Wiest-ette tradition, this note was "anonymously" left for me after Margot got in trouble tonight.  When I thanked her for the apology, she exclaimed, "How did you know it was from me??" 

She then followed up with a sort of read-aloud/ad-libbed presentation, which consisted of the following:  "Mommy - you're the best mom ever.  I love you.  You're intelligent.  You work hard to keep us healthy.  You make good biscuits.  I like when you sing us a lullaby.  You're a good mom.  I love you so, so much."

Geez.  Maybe I should put her in time-out more often.

Birthday Commentary

Today is Don's birthday.  Claire asked me how old he is - when I replied "41" she exclaimed, "Wow!  Do we know anyone else who is that old?  Besides Grandpa and Grandma, I mean?"

Rewards for Divas

I was cleaning out my wallet yesterday and Margot was the lucky recipient of an extra Godiva Rewards card.  She studied it carefully and then exclaimed, "Go, Diva?!  This is awesome!"

Her initial enthusiasm was followed by a rousing rendition of a song that goes like this:  "Go diva, it's your birthday!  Go diva, it's your birthday!"  (Repeat 300 times.)

Request of the Week

Jane's unusual request for a mail-order baby sister may have been trumped by the question that Margot just asked me:

Margot:  "Mommy, can you buy me a clear bodysuit?"
Me:  "A what?"
Margot:  "A CLEAR bodysuit.  Like, one you can see through?"
Me:  "No, I can't."
Margot:  "Yeah . . . I guess they're probably pretty hard to find."

I imagine that a see-through bodysuit might even be harder to locate that your average Hellcat costume.

Responsible Dogs

Let me start by noting that Jane is on a bit of a roll this week.  She has continued with near-hourly requests that I order her a baby sister, and responded with outright fury when she realized I'd actually given away almost all of our baby things ("Mommy!  I'm so mad at you.  You should not give our baby things away.  The baby sister is not going to have any bottles now!  She needs diapers!  She needs pacifiers!") 

She did, however, take a brief break from the topic of the hoped-for baby sister to engage in the following discussion:
Jane:  "Mommy, remember when I was home with Margot and we were by ourselves without any grown-ups here?" 
Me:  "What are you talking about?  You and Margot have never been left here with out any grown-ups."

Jane:  "Yes, we were."

Me:  "Who was watching you, then?"

Jane:  "Margot."

Me:  "Who was watching Margot?"

Jane:  "Claire."

Me:  "Ok.  Who was watching Claire?"

Jane:  "Um . . . Ollie?"  (Note:  Ollie is a dog.)

Me:  "Uh-huh.  And who was watching Ollie?"

Jane (triumphantly):  "Hugo!"  (Note:  Hugo is also a dog - although he is probably qualified to watch Ollie.)

Me:  "So, who was watching Hugo?" 

Jane:  "The dishwasher."

Me:  [silence]

Because, really - how am I supposed to respond to that?

Fashionista Strikes Again

Claire:  "Mommy?  Have you ever described me by saying "She lives for fashion"?"

Me:  "Um . . . I'm not sure I've used those exact words."

Claire:  "Huh.  Don't you think you should?"

Know Thy Sister

Jane's first comment upon receiving her newest accessory:  "Wow.  Margot is going to be really jealous of this pink cast."

Margot's first comment upon seeing Jane after we got home from the hospital:  "Jane, congratulations!  That's a really cool pink cast."

Does that kid know her sister or what?

(Jane's second comment after getting the cast, by the way, was to announce to the doctor that "this pink cast will still match my red birthday dress."  Even in the throes of broken-arm pain, one must not lose sight of one's fashion priorities.)

Catalog Shopping

In what may be her most original request yet, Jane just asked me to buy her a baby from the Company Store catalog.

Jane (holding catalog open to a page with two babies):  "Mommy?  See these babies? With their mouths open?"
Me:  "Yes, aren't they cute?"
Jane:  "Can you buy me one of these?  They can fit pacifiers in their mouths."  (Note:  the failure of many of Jane's dolls to "fit pacifiers in their mouths" is an unending source of disappointment for her.)
Me:  "Those are real babies - they aren't for sale.  They're just showing the different baby clothes that you can buy from this catalog."
Jane:  "They have a lot of them in here.  Can you buy me one of them for a baby sister?"
Me:  "Jane, we can't buy a baby from a catalog."
Jane:  "Look!!  Here are two more.  Can you buy me one of these?"
Me:  "No, we can't buy a real baby."
Jane:  "When I turn four can we order one?  For a little sister?  Who fits a pacifier in her mouth?"
Margot (walking into room):  "Jane, you can't order a real baby from a catalog."
Jane: "Margot!  I know that.  Mama has to order it for me."

(Not) Two Peas in a Pod

On our way to dinner the other night, we passed a billboard with an ad for cancer research:
Claire:  "Mommy, is cancer the one where the cells just go crazy reproducing themselves again and again and try to take over someone's whole body?"
Me:  "Yes, pretty much."
Claire:  "Well, how do they do that?  Does cancer have a brain? How many cells do there have to be before you can see the cancer?  What does cancer look like?"
Me:  [lengthy explanation of how, as is so often the case, I don't know the answer to most of these questions]
Margot:  "I don't like cancer."
Claire:  "Well, Margot, cancer is bad - but it is also so interesting.  Mom, can we talk about cancer the whole time at dinner?"
Margot:  "I don't want to talk about cancer!  Can we please talk about love?"

Future Lawyer?

Me:  "'Jane, can you move this crib and these baby dolls out of my room?"
Jane:  "There's only one baby in there."
Me:  "Well, could you move her out of my room?"
Jane:  "It's not a girl, it's a boy."
Me:  "Ok.  Could you please move him out of my room?"
Jane:  "No.  He needs to stay in his crib."
Me:  "I mean, can you move him and his crib out of my room?"
Jane:  "Mommy!  He will cry if his crib isn't in here."
Me: [silence]

This is clearly the child of two lawyers.

Pajama Time

Last night we were getting ready to read a chapter from our current bedtime story (The Penderwicks - which I highly recommend.)  I asked the girls to put their pajamas and then come to our bedroom when they were ready.  Claire quickly came in wearing in a one-piece swimsuit, a scarf, tights, and a mini-skirt.  Given that my constant mantra is "pick your  battles," I deemed this to be adequate bedtime attire.  Margot promptly followed in a full-length princess dress (with gloves) - also acceptable.

Jane appeared wearing only a bikini.  Given that it is winter, that we live in New England, and that our house is 119 years old and extremely drafty, I had no choice but to veto the bikini.  I told Jane to change into something warmer.  She refused.  I reminded her about the night before, when she had woken up at 3:00 a.m. complaining of being too cold.  She was not persuaded.  I suggested that she'd woken up freezing because of her insistence on sleeping in nothing but a thin, short-sleeved leotard.  She briefly reflected on this point - with some hostility, I think - and then stomped off.

After about five minutes, she came back in wearing the infamous caterpillar suit, with accessories - these being a pair of gold mouse-ears and a princess headdress - and advised that she was now ready for bed.  What could I say?  Add caterpillar-mouse-princess get-up to the list of items that, at 9 Park Lane, qualify as "pajamas."

Bath Time Smackdown?

Margot:   "Jane, just because you can spit doesn't mean you are a spitting champion."

Jane:  "'Margot?  No one is actually talking to you right now."