I follow her with my eyes, this mini Mimi who’s taken a million prizes from my mauve-covered bin. The way she carries herself with aplomb, lugging her loot in a Bingo shopping bag. They’re all hers, she claims, because she picked them and that’s that. The problem is, her siblings have four prizes. Only. And it’s not fair. They’ve followed my bubby rules and taken only as many prizes as I allowed. After stretching it from the two I originally stated. And if you ask any school-going kid, rules are rules that can only be broken within certain confines that have rules of their own.
All in the name of fairness.
Childhood values right and wrong.
Good and bad.
Black and white.
Mimi doesn’t care about any of that. Calculations don’t matter. Fairness is measured by desire, not logic. I agree with her. In theory, I'd give her siblings more prizes so Mimi does not need to give any back. Why can’t I do that? Don’t get me started about teaching her a lesson for life. I’m the Bubby and so done with telling and saying and teaching. Tomatoes are meant to be picked from the salad bowl, and grape juice rivers add vision to the meal.
I see in shades of color, so why would I mess with a toddler’s easy come, easy go mindset?
I can’t contemplate this conundrum because it’s shabbos party time. So say Malka and Shlomo. And the haggle starts all over again.
“How many candies can we take?” Malka asks.
“How many do you want?”
“Thousand.”
I laugh, fold my arms, put on a strict facade. “You’ll have to eat every single one. Sure you want that many?”
The kids giggle, “Yes, yes. Okay,”
Out comes the mesh bin. In go six hands that move according to rules set the same way every single time. Because that’s what their Tatty said. Malka chooses Laffy Taffy, plunks one on each of her siblings’ plates together with a handful of potato chips. Shlomo goes for the Jolly Ranchers and pretzels. Mimi pulls out heart lollipops. “One for Malka,’ she chants. “One for Shlomo.” She holds the third one out for me. “Open it.”
Crinkle, crinkle sounds the wrapper.
Slurp, crunch is heard all around.
