Monday, February 18, 2008

Fingernails.

Today Ebear came over to me wanting to have a serious discussion about something in the serious manner only 4 year olds can put together. It had to do with pistachios and a robot. I'm not entirely sure what one had to do with the other, but can tell you that he was definately perturbed about it. Not wanting to get deep into the murky waters of agreeing with him on a subject I'm sure will backfire on me, I distracted him.
"Look at those fingers! Oh my! That dirt is going to eat them off! We better go wash your hands immediately." And off we trotted to the bathroom. Put him up on the counter to keep the chances of escape at a bare minimum. Soaped him up, start laughing, get him laughing which inevitably pricks the curiosity of the wee little girl of the house. Pop her upon the counter so she can watch too.
We scrub scrub scrub, but alas, that dirt is really in there. "Well son, I think we may need to operate" pull out clippers. He actually said "Ow" before I even touched him. Decide to make a really big deal out of it all and we clip each finger nail in small increments, looking to see if any dirt got out after each snip. Little girl is leaning in close for this inspection all the while holding her little balled fists in tight to her tummy (you aint getting aholda my hands dirty copper). After much concentration we get the offending fingers into snappy shape. Rewash hands, pat dry, and even had a grand finish of oohs and ahhs. Congratulations and promotions all around, job well done men. Ebear runs outta the room to dig in the potted plants to see if dirt really will stay out from under what is left of his nails. Then Ebear promptly realizes that was not such a good idea and high tails it to the other bathroom to rewash hands so "Mommy Dearest" doesn't see the evidence.
Little girl did not fall for the 'isn't this interesting game' but still needs her claws trimmed. I start out with her gently, asking her if she wants to get her hands wet, she pulls up her sleeves. We get one hand in the water, I soap it and wash. While rinsing I slip my arm around her and pick up the clippers. Bad idea, I was moving too fast for this conservative minded young lady.
RED ALERT flashed across her eyes while her hands flash back into balled position. She is no longer eying me with suspicion, but with outright contempt as the wrinkle in her scrunched up nose suggests.
It was a long time, but slowly I got her to extend just one finger. Clip! "See, that didn't hurt, and look at that dirt getting out!" Another finger.....then another....she starts leaning in again becoming fascinated with her own hands transportation into the land of the clean. Finally, with the end in sight, we rewash the hands, pat dry and have another grand reveal. Being the lone princess in a house of big brothers makes her especially prone to needing to pagent things on her person that are pretty. Some days it's her beads, other days it's hair barrettes, today it was her dainty little dirtless hands. She was applauded and thus satisfied went on to make mud pies out of this great dirt that just appeared over by moms peace lily.

I'm feeling good about this. It was an accomplishment. This was the first time in many a year that no tears were involved.........at least until I saw the lily........

2 comments:

Doy said...

we're gonna have to publish these one day. You have a wonderfull way of writing these little stories.

Okay, so I'm biased, what of it?

knittygurl said...

She sounds like the pretty little princess I'm sure she is :-)