Wednesday, January 30, 2008

puzzles are not my friends

Puzzles make me crazy. It is a very silly thing. Today, MyGirl and I were picking up some puzzles that HB dumped out on the floor. One was a puzzle I had as a kid, with a scene with some Disney characters riding a roller coaster and carousel at an amusement park. MyGirl didn't really want to put it together (neither did I, for the record), and to help with the whole picking up process, I said, "Let's see how fast I can put this together." So I began placing pieces where they went. MyGirl started to count. "I'm counting how many minutes it takes you, Mom," she said. She's a good little counter, but not speedy, and I could feel my blood pressure rising. At thirty nine, I'd reached a serious stress level. "Arrrrggggghhhh!!!! I HATE PUZZLES!!!" I shouted with exasperation. Her response: "Mom, don't you think that's a bit much?"

Yes. Getting stressed out by a child's puzzle is a bit much.

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