WCK and I spent all morning in the house, waiting for the Revlimid Delivery Guy to show up. On the day the Revlimid comes, I have to be here to sign for it, and they tell me it will come any time between 8 a.m. and noon. Usually the guy shows up well before 9 a.m., so it's not much of a problem. Today we had a different delivery guy, and he didn't get here until nearly 11:30. We had a lot of time to kill. Plus, WCK has a cold and is extra cranky. Plus, it's all gray and rainy out. It was a long morning.
After letting WCK watch cartoons for a while, I decided I'd better be a Good Mother and actually play with her before she developed some kind of brain damage. Some day I will get a call from the Dean of Students at her college, letting me know that WCK is flunking out because of two many hours of "My Friend Rabbit" when she was two.
I asked her what she wanted to play, and she immediately asked for her Dorothy dress. WCK likes to dress up in her Dorothy dress and ruby slippers and play Wizard of Oz. This is the same Dorothy dress she wore two Halloweens ago, so it is getting a little bit small -- OK, it's getting A LOT small -- and the buttons are popping off. She loves it anyway. Playing Wizard of Oz means that WCK gets to dress up and then boss everyone else around, deciding who gets to be Glinda, who gets to be the Scarecrow, and so on. Usually I wear a pink feather boa and use a soup ladle as my magic wand and play Glinda, but we also have a blue gift bag decorated with Elmo stickers that WCK has decided is a "Scarecrow hat." You turn it upside down and wear it on your head and become the Scarecrow. It doesn't get embarrassing unless you forget you have it on and, say, answer the door wearing the Scarecrow hat.
WCK has never seen the movie, but she is familiar with the plot and knows what every character wanted -- brains, heart, courage, and to go home. (Once she asked me what the Wizard wanted. "Um," I said, "Respect.") We were gearing up to play Wizard of Oz when WCK remembered that the Scarecrow hat was upstairs. Because she was cranky, she didn't want to go get it herself.
She started begging me to go get the Scarecrow hat.
"Go get a brain, Mommy," she said. "Go get a brain."