Aubry had already dressed, eaten, brushed her teeth, and put her hair up. Unusual. She had also practiced piano. Suspect. I was sure her attention to doing what she was supposed to be doing, without being asked or told to (taking responsibility for herself), was part of her plan to get her Nintendo DS back early (a consequence for being irresponsible).
“Ahhhhh… hi, Mama! Where’s the chest you wrote about?”
I pointed to it, “Right there.”
“Are you going to give it to me? I want to read your story. Where’s the book?”
What she referred to was the book (Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks Mom) that I had been interviewed about by the newspaper. All of the kids read the interview the evening before. My story, “The Chest,” was included in this latest edition. Just in time for Mother’s Day.
Greyson was rolling around on top of me, taking turns giggling and hugging me. Also dressed, teeth brushed and cats fed, I might add. His Nintendo had been taken away for the same reason, irresponsibility.
I pointed to the nightstand. Aubry picked up the book, “Where is it?”
Okay, I had just woken up. I was java-deprived. My brain was still in a fog-like state, “Check the index.”
As soon as I had said that, Greyson piped up, “Mommy, you mean the table of contents. The index is in the back of the book. It’s used for looking up information.”
I didn’t know he knew all of that and I was impressed, “You’re right, honey. Look in the table of contents. I know “The Chest” is the fourth story.”
“Here it is, Mama! I’m going to read it aloud,” said Aubry. She began and then stopped.
“This is kind of boring.”
Aubry came over and patted my leg, “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I think it’s a story adults will like. Good job, Mama.” And she walked out. I heard her going down the stairs.
“Yeah. Good job Mommy,” said Greyson, patting my leg, like Aubry—of course. And he took off after her.