Hawaiian Supermom

Beach day today.

It was a water on the toes, toes in the sand, sand in the hair, hair all a mess, mess on the mat kind of day.

Kids were happy.

TOO happy.

Until we had to leave.

See, the 5-year-old left her puny slippers right along the shoreline and as we were getting ready to leave she started bawling for them. So we all play a twenty minute game of find-her-stupid-slippers-guys. Don’t know if the things walked off or sailed off into the sunset; all we know is that they were not where they SHOULD be, which is on her puny feet.

Being ordinary non-cobbler folk, we left as we could not possibly spin air into rubber footwear, and this made her mad. So mad she sulked all the way home.

And when we got home she refused to get out of the car.

I finally enticed her out with the promise of a piggyback ride, which she took right into the house. I spun her around and around like pigs often do when they give people these sorts of rides, plopped her down on the couch and then, she started crying again.

“What?” I ask.

“Arhuh mahuhuh guh alab burhini hugga trrrrrro.”

“What?” I snap.

To which she snaps back, “Arhuh mahuhuh guh alab burhini hugga trrrrrro!”

“What are you saying?” I hiss.

She is furious now. Screams, “I hic-I h-h-h-h I suh-suh-suh-suh-said, ‘Arhuh mahuhuh guh alab burhini hugga trrrrrro!’”

I have no clue. And I am not a patient lady. Especially when I’m getting screamed at. “I don’t even know what you said just now.”

“She said,” my 7-year-old daughter sighs, like I’m some kind of an idiot moron, “that she wants to go back to the beach to find her slippers because she really likes them a lot.”

“Really?” I ask her.

“Mmmhmm.” She says, her voice dripping with sunshine and the magic of rainbow unicorns.

And suddenly all is right in this world. The message was delivered. Promises were made to replace said foot objects. The little one is happy again. We are all at peace. Thanks to my little translator.

I guess sisters really do understand each other best.