Today was a rainy, rainy day. I'm in day two of my three day just me and the kids extravaganza, and day one was really sunny - we got to do dry runs for Easter egg hunting all day in the backyard. Usually on rainy days, I have some sort of art project to do, we do "school time," have lunch & play pretend games in the down time. From the minute she woke up this morning, however, Isla decided to play "baby." This game consists of Isla pretending to be a baby and wanting to play with a toy. Then she switches back to herself and tells me not to let any babies play with her toys. Next, she reverts back to the baby, asks to play with toys again, and cries loudly in a fake baby cry when I say that Isla told me not to let babies play with her toys (if I say ok, she cries for real and throws a tantrum because I'm not playing the game right...) This lasted FOREVER. Or, at least 3 hours. Sooooo, at the three hour mark, I decided this was either going to stop, or I was going to put my head through the drywall. We tried painting - but she didn't like how the watercolors were mixed together. We tried coloring, but she said the crayons "feel like bad in my hand." We tried playing Barbies, Star Wars, Block Zoo, Catnapper, Smurfs, and probably 74 million other things, Isla becoming more and more upset at each one.
I don't really blame her though - I remember rainy days as a child sitting in my room, thinking to myself: "nothing feels fun right now. Nothing." I would try to put myself in various scenarios to test out how incredibly morose I really was - Disneyland being the ultimate test. If I asked my child-self if I wanted to go to Disneyland, and my response to myself was "naaahhh." I knew I was in for a long day. Yeah, I was a complicated kid. Whatever.
I knew this was going to take some kind of special maneuvering. "How about a movie?" I said. "I only like Bratz!" was the reply. Ugh. Ever since she watched a quarter of an episode of the most horrendous show for girls I've ever seen - BRATZ - where these horribly rendered computer graphic asshole girls run around being assholes to eachother, and I said I didn't like her watching it - she has used that to spite me. I needed some quick thinking. "I know," I said, "how about a movie about a sad, sad boy who has scissors for his hands."
"No... What? What does he have on his hands, Daddy?"
"Scissors"
"Why?"
"You'll have to watch the movie to find out."
"But how does he eat food?"
"You'll have to watch the movie to find out."
"Ok, daddy. Is it scary?"
"Probably."
"Will you sit next to me?"
"Of course! I love that movie"
"Let's DO IT!"
Phew. What transpired next was unadulterated excellence. Watching a kid watch Edward Scissorhands (except for the seduction scene in the beauty shop, which got fast forwarded - yes, we were watching a VHS - don't judge me) is like watching a puppy chase butterflies. Or a dolphin playing in the wake of a boat. Or a unicorn... you get the picture.
The best part came after the last scene, however. Isla, a little perturbed by the fact that Edward was alone at the end, wanted to play a game that revisited Edward in the future. Only this time Isla was his friend, and she knew how to make hands.
"do you think I could make Edward Scissorhands some hands out of my clay tomorrow, daddy?"
"I think he'd really like that, Isla. Thanks."
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