Roly Polies

Dear Laney,

When I was not much older than you are now, I got in trouble for doing nobody-remembers-what, and my mother sent me to my room after yelling, "YOU GO TO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!"

Legend has it that an hour or so later, Granny Jack came in to check on me, and found me lying in bed, lost in thought. She asked, "What are you doing, Brooke?" and I confided, "Well, I'm supposed to be thinking about what I did, but really, I'm thinking about roly polies."

Last night, you took off your muddy boots and left them in the middle of the living room. I told you to pick them up and put them by the door with the other shoes. You stood over the shoes, not moving. "I'm going to test this out," you seemed to be thinking, "and see what happens if I don't move my shoes." After asking you a few more times in increasingly louder tones, I put you on the stairs and told you to go up to your room, and only come out when you were ready to pick up your shoes.

Dinner came and went, and we didn't hear from you. I decided to creep up the stairs and see what you were up to. In my fantasy, you were laid across your bed, wracked with remorse. You'd have your arm draped across your eyes, taking deep sighs and pondering how you'd disappointed me.

Yeah, right.

Instead, you had pilfered the dress-up box and were, according to you, "a very bootiful princess going to Grandma's house on dis moose."

Dad yelled up the stairs, "Laney, if you pick up these shoes, you can have cheese toast."

"Oh, right!"

You had completely forgotten that you were supposed to be stewing in regret. And I had to ask myself that same question mothers have been asking themselves since time immemorial:

How can I make this young'un feel guilty if she won't participate?

Love,

Mom

P.S. I think roly-polies are a nation-wide phenomenon, but in case, like butter-flavored Crisco, they're a southern thing, I'll explain:

Roly polies are small, grey insects that look like micro armadillos. When scared, they roll up into little balls. Like most kids, I was fascinated with them and could play with them all day long. I mentioned this story to your dad, and I googled a picture of them to be sure we were talking about the same bug:

And then I yelled, "GROSS! I CAN'T BELIEVE I EVER TOUCHED ONE OF THOSE THINGS!!!" Ugh. I guess I'll just have to file the roly poly under, "Things That Lose Their Appeal When You Grow Up," right between Chef Boyardee Ravioli and the movie "Rhinestone."