Waltzing Machiavelli
Skipper has learned the fine art of malingering. Yesterday, Duchess stayed home from school sick.* Skipper was very jealous, and said this morning that she wanted to stay home. I said no. (It's a scheduled day off work for me, but I have lots of volunteering commitments, plus a grubby house and the prospect of a busy weekend.) She seemed very jaunty on the way to preschool, but she abruptly announced just before we got there that her stomach hurt, so I notified her teacher that Duchess had been sick, and that I was available to pick up Skipper if they thought she seemed legitimately sick. I dropped her off at 9, and they called me at 11:45 to say that Skipper was complaining of stomach-ache, and seemed lethargic - not participating in play, staring off into space. I got on a bus and retrieved her shortly thereafter from the preschool's office, where she was happily looking at books. It quickly became apparent that she is completely healthy and chipper, and on further questioning, she forthrightly admitted that she had been planning from the moment I dropped her off that she would finagle a pick-up before naptime. She even skipped lunch to add verisimilitude to her fake illness, counting on eating at home. Now she's running around the house (having refused to nap), singing nonsense songs and making an elaborate pretend-food feast to feed to me.
Sometimes, because Duchess is so large and articulate, and Skipper is so small and incoherent (not just in the clarity of her speech, but also in the content of her speech, which often seems to be made up of improvisational riffs), we think of Skipper as relatively babyish, somehow forgetting that she is a fully-formed, power-hungry person propelled by tremendous will, hampered by very little ethical drag. Underestimate her, and you'll find your afternoon plans suddenly including the pretend consumption of a lot of pretend food.
*This episode had a stressful launch - she complained of an aching stomach all morning, but we got all the way to school before she decided she needed to stay home (she was very pale, and hardly talking at all, which is a pretty dire indication of illness for Duchess, but she really, really wanted to go to school and kung fu), and then as we were walking very slowly home, with pauses for her to crouch and retch in the bushes, I called my office to tell them that I was home with a sick kid, and my boss promptly called back to tell me that was unacceptable and I had to attend a meeting that afternoon. So Cook, who has an understanding and flexible boss, had to cancel an important meeting he was supposed to run that afternoon, and come home. Duchess barfed twice and lay in bed all morning dozing or staring off into space, not talking AND not reading, which made me think she was probably going to die before dusk. But she turned the corner before noon, and was chatting and reading by the time I got home.
Sometimes, because Duchess is so large and articulate, and Skipper is so small and incoherent (not just in the clarity of her speech, but also in the content of her speech, which often seems to be made up of improvisational riffs), we think of Skipper as relatively babyish, somehow forgetting that she is a fully-formed, power-hungry person propelled by tremendous will, hampered by very little ethical drag. Underestimate her, and you'll find your afternoon plans suddenly including the pretend consumption of a lot of pretend food.
*This episode had a stressful launch - she complained of an aching stomach all morning, but we got all the way to school before she decided she needed to stay home (she was very pale, and hardly talking at all, which is a pretty dire indication of illness for Duchess, but she really, really wanted to go to school and kung fu), and then as we were walking very slowly home, with pauses for her to crouch and retch in the bushes, I called my office to tell them that I was home with a sick kid, and my boss promptly called back to tell me that was unacceptable and I had to attend a meeting that afternoon. So Cook, who has an understanding and flexible boss, had to cancel an important meeting he was supposed to run that afternoon, and come home. Duchess barfed twice and lay in bed all morning dozing or staring off into space, not talking AND not reading, which made me think she was probably going to die before dusk. But she turned the corner before noon, and was chatting and reading by the time I got home.
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