I love my nieces, I really do.
May. 18th, 2011 02:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conuly
Don't understand them one little bit, but I love them.
Yesterday it was torrential out there. We came home to do our homework BEFORE going to Ana's double dutch class. This was a mistake - if we'd gone straight to the bus we would've made it to the Y on time, but I wasn't going out once it started pouring down. So we made hot cocoa instead, and we had a nice dinner of thyme lime chicken and okra (and some other stuff they didn't eat much of, but I keep thinking one day they'll wake up and love sweet potato!) and it was great.
After dinner I sent them to clean up their room while I prepped dessert - fruit salad. It's a really good fruit salad, with avocado, cherries, strawberries, and banana (pity the nieces only eat two of the four fruits in there, but I can finagle banana in as well if I ask nicely) covered over with a light ginger syrup and some orange juice. Anyway, they love strawberries and cherries and stainy fruits in general.
So here I am washing dishes and puttering around the kitchen and cleaning up (yes, Jenn!) and chopping fruits into individual bowls and cooking ginger syrup and squeezing an orange, and I hear quite a lot of productive noise coming from their room and a real dearth of suspicious silence, giggling, or fighting, plus every time I holler "Are you cleaning in there???" I get a firm "YES!" in reply, so I trust that the room will look, if not better, at least not worse when I poke my head in.
And then I *did* poke my head in, and found that the nieces had taken all their summer clothes out of the bin (which they shouldn't've had in their room but have been using as a "picnic table") to put in a bag, and then started taking their books off the shelves to put in the bin.
...
I have no idea what on earth gave them idea that "clean up your room!" meant "do something totally random and unproductive, guys!", but in their defense, the books were at least... stacked neatly?
Yesterday it was torrential out there. We came home to do our homework BEFORE going to Ana's double dutch class. This was a mistake - if we'd gone straight to the bus we would've made it to the Y on time, but I wasn't going out once it started pouring down. So we made hot cocoa instead, and we had a nice dinner of thyme lime chicken and okra (and some other stuff they didn't eat much of, but I keep thinking one day they'll wake up and love sweet potato!) and it was great.
After dinner I sent them to clean up their room while I prepped dessert - fruit salad. It's a really good fruit salad, with avocado, cherries, strawberries, and banana (pity the nieces only eat two of the four fruits in there, but I can finagle banana in as well if I ask nicely) covered over with a light ginger syrup and some orange juice. Anyway, they love strawberries and cherries and stainy fruits in general.
So here I am washing dishes and puttering around the kitchen and cleaning up (yes, Jenn!) and chopping fruits into individual bowls and cooking ginger syrup and squeezing an orange, and I hear quite a lot of productive noise coming from their room and a real dearth of suspicious silence, giggling, or fighting, plus every time I holler "Are you cleaning in there???" I get a firm "YES!" in reply, so I trust that the room will look, if not better, at least not worse when I poke my head in.
And then I *did* poke my head in, and found that the nieces had taken all their summer clothes out of the bin (which they shouldn't've had in their room but have been using as a "picnic table") to put in a bag, and then started taking their books off the shelves to put in the bin.
...
I have no idea what on earth gave them idea that "clean up your room!" meant "do something totally random and unproductive, guys!", but in their defense, the books were at least... stacked neatly?
