The mother thinks I don’t need 5 cups so she’s been nagging me to keep some away. I do need 5 cups (although… I really thought I only had 4.) So I stacked them up. “There, did you see, now I only have 1 cup.” (albeit a rather tall and precarious looking one.)
The brother has been traumatised since Kindergarten by his teacher. She had asked his class to memorise the nursery rhyme “One, two, buckle my shoe…” I’m not sure why he didn’t do it, but when called up to recite it, he had to come up with something, and so he did. Amazing feat for a little one to compose a complete rhyme impromptu. But his teacher didn’t think so and had it in for him after that.
It makes me wonder how difficult it is to raise, teach and live with creative people who think everything is a laugh (sometimes a weep) and the world is still pure, raw and beautiful no matter how much darkness you show them. Who are hyper-sensitive, hard to understand and terribly hard to live with sometimes. (me, not my brother who is an absolute gem :).