A Telling Yarn
So, we’re shopping in JoAnne’s Fabrics for Halloween costume supplies and I see this incredible, one-pound skein of fluffy yarn. It’s glorious – and HUGE. I grab it up, whirl toward the three puffs following me, and chirp, “Come here!” The older two instantly scatter. Quokka jumps backward and runs three steps. Athena dodges to the side and runs ahead. Sweet little Badger, who’s still only six, steps up, “What?” And then stumbles to the side under the solid thump from the enormous skein whapping her shoulder and side. I laugh like mad, hug her and toss the yarn back into the bin. The other two warily approach once they see I’ve disarmed. “Two things are clear right now. One, I’m a terrible mother because I like whacking you guys with fluffy things so much you instinctively dodge away as soon as I pick it up. Two, poor Badger is too young to have learned not to trust me.” Athena rushed over to hug and reassure me, “No, you’re a great mom!” “But you don’t trust me?” “Not...