Spring Blossoms

"Have it your way," I mutter to myself, "I haven't seen such manners from you even when you were older, despite my own efforts."

I am about to start the coffee machine and by the time I finish pouring the water up to the 12-th level mark, my five year old first love makes her sleepy entrance, still dressed in her Barbie nightie, dragging favorite Jessica along.

"Namami," she says anchoring her own doll like little hands around my knees, "can I have the surprise for today now instead of before bedtime?"

"Any special reason why you'd like it this early today?" I ask.

"Well, I think by evening, you could run out of surprises," she replies in a somewhat worried tone.

I keep from laughing of course, and without looking at her father's scorning facial expression, take her hand, kneel by her and start negotiating.

"I suppose I can make an exception if you sit down nicely at the table and start on the yummy breakfast your daddy is preparing for you."

"Yum-my!" chimes in the little squirt, who enjoys immensely the word and what is associated with it.

Ariella listens intensely, sits down at the table, placing Jessica carefully on the other side, making it unreachable for the little sisty.

"That's a good idea, Namami," she agrees after a little thinking and gives me a follow up question, with sparkles in her dark brown eyes. "Is it a clothing or a toy surprise?"

"It won't be a surprise if I tell you, will it?" I reply in a most serious tone.

She only nods her head and the long blond tresses follow obediently its motion.

Of course, I'm pronto on my way to the lower level of the house where the guestroom, magic hiding place of my daily surprises, is located. When I make it back to the kitchen, "Daddy" is ready to take off for work and Mommy readies her surprise driven Ariella for school. The "little Bean" sits on the sofa with her faithful blanky, watching in comfort her favorite video about the adventures of Thomas the Tanker and assorted "friends".

"Chu -Chu!" she says, pointing to the screens, as if I didn't know after viewing with her the same episodes at least five times a day in the last ten days. She gingerly gets off the sofa, with a corner of that unhygienic blanky attached to her thumb, which in an ingenious way is also in her mouth. Now she starts dragging at my skirt,

"Laps, laps," she begs to sit in my lap and have me watch her wonderful show while commenting about the brightly colored train engines, naming them each, for the hundredth time.

I'm not sure if Ariella acknowledges my return first, or that I have something in the hand I hide behind my back. "You found it! What is it today?" she asks eagerly, jumping with joy.

Ogre that I am, I answer with a smile, "Did you eat all your breakfast?"

Her eyes center on the ground for a moment, then she comes up with an answer:

"I ate all of the butter Mommy put on my muffin."

This one worries me somewhat with her eating or rather, with her not eating, but I hand her the present anyway.

"Oh, a beautiful dress!" she exclaims as she shows it to her mother. "Look Mama! Can I wear it to school today?"

"Yes, you may," my daughter-in-law agrees, while Ariella runs to her room to prepare another entrance in the new outfit.

The little Bean looked for a short while at the brightly illustrated book I gave her, but pushes it to the side of the leather chair where I'm sitting with her in my lap.