So, I am in the kitchen pulling the cookies out of the oven and return to the living room and see Addie holding a throw pillow over the window.
M: “Addie what are you doing?”
A: “There is a fly on the window, Mama.”
Meanwhile, Emma goes flying over to the other side of the room.
M: “Well, let me get the fly.”
And I pull away the pillow and see this…
Not a fly…and it isn’t a spider web either. That is a broken pane of glass, my friends. One of the panes of glass in one of the windows that I think is original to the house. Which, remember, was built in the 1920s. This isn’t going to be cheap.
M: “What happened to the window?” (Trying to control my voice so it didn’t come out all shriek-y like it was sounding in my head.)
Silence. Crickets…chirp, chirp.
M: “What happened to the window, who broke it? Emma? Addison?”
A: “I sink (think) it was the fly, Mama!”
M: “No, I don’t think it was a fly, Addison. Emma?”
E: “I don’t know, Mama? I didn’t do it!”
M: “YOU didn’t do it?!” (Starting to get a little shriek-ier here…)
Emma just starts full on crying. “I didn’t do it!”
M: “Why don’t you go sit on the steps until you can tell me what happened.”
About five minutes later she comes in and says:
E: “Well, there was a fly, and I couldn’t find the flyswatter.”
E: “And so I hit it.”
M: “With what? Your hand?”
E: “No. My tennis racket.”
Of course. A tennis racket. What else would you use?