Creativity Abounds

Just as I was getting out of bed around 6:45 this morning, Madeleine came bursting into my bedroom with an urgent announcement.

MADELEINE: I reeeeally need to go pee!
ME: Okay.  Let's go.
MADELEINE: But Mama.  Is it morning?
ME: Yup.
MADELEINE: (brightly) Oh!  I thought it was still SEVEN-THIRTY!
ME: Nope, it's morning.  C'mon, let's go downstairs.
MADELEINE: (babbling at me as we walked downstairs and into the bathroom) Yeah.  I thought it was still seven-thirty, because it looked a little bit DARK out.  But then I realized I needed to go pee.  But...I thought you were going to be ANGRY.  And Mama?  Did you see me TREMBLING?
ME: No, I didn't.
MADELEINE: Yeah.  I was TREMBLING, because...I didn't know where the bathroom was in the dark.
ME: Oh, boy.
MADELEINE: And Mom?  Did you know I was going like THIS? (making gulping sounds)
ME: Uh, no, I didn't.
MADELEINE: Yeah.  I wonder why my heart was BEEPING so fast.

I don't know about you, but my heart is always beeping hard in my chest when I think it's still seven-thirty and I realize I need to go pee but I'm trembling because I can't find the bathroom in the dark, too.  I feel ya, Madeleine.


In other news, Julia worked on some new poems yesterday, about all manner of things, including a period.  (I'm assuming she means the punctuation, not the menstrual flow, but maybe it's an artistic double entendre!)

Pereid

Fat littel peireid
Veary veary stubern
It dosant play becuce it has no way to play
So don't ask a peireid to play.


Wow.  THAT.  IS.  POIGNANT.


Julia also wrote this slightly disturbingly sad poem:

Why Say By?
by Julia Rowe

Why say by?
Why say by?
If you love someone it could make you start to cry.
So why say by?


Apparently Madeleine was so influenced by the two houses Julia drew on the front and back page of this poem that she decided to defile Julia's next poem-in-progress:

When Julia caught Madeleine in the act of drawing the above house, it was MAJOR tears.  How DARE Madeleine draw on a nearly blank piece of paper??  Shouldn't she know that if the top of the page says "Aurora Borieols" it means Julia was planning to write a poem about an aurora borealis on that paper?  MADELEINE RUINED EVERYTHING.


Not to mention Madeleine also did this unwelcome illustration on another of Julia's papers:

So.  We got Madeleine her own blank paper, and she set to work on her own poems and illustrations.  Fans of Madeleine's Zombie-Apocalypse artistic style: you will be glad to know that she did not disappoint.

MADELEINE:  (after writing her name) Uh, Auntie Shannon?  How do you spell "said?"
AUNTIE SHANNON:  S-a-i-d.
MADELEINE: (writing the letters) Okay.  So.  Now, how do you spell "I did my sunscreen so now I'm all good and we can go swimming at the pooool!"?

Needless to say, we couldn't fit all that text.  So we have the nice caveman-like dialogue to go with the clawed O-mouth zombie figures marching towards us: "I did sunscreen."


Then there was this poem:

MADELEINE: Uh, Julia, how do you spell: "No, no SHOW it, not blow it!"?

I don't know which creature is more frightening to me.  The orange Frankenstein-chicken hybrid looks like he's going to slowly and methodically march off the paper and come trample me.  But the pink claw-handed possessed bug-eyed woman is totally going to suck out my soul.  I don't want to show it OR blow it.  I want to go hide.

Madeleine eventually gave up on writing text to go with all her illustrations, so we are free to interpret what the following characters are saying.

My interpretation: "We are coming to pierce you with our long sharp pitchfork hands and feet, and while we're at it, we're going to hypnotize you with our red eyes of FIRE."  Or something like that.

"We are the zombie-ghosts of a long-ago married couple who have been roaming the earth sucking out peoples' souls and turning them into ZOMBIE-GHOSTS just like us MWAHAHAHAHA WOOOOOOOOOOO!"


And then there's this one:

I am at a loss for words over this demon-possessed voodoo monster. 

Shudder.