Yes I Can!...Well Maybe Not...

There's a tradition in the Third Grade at the Tornadoes' school. It is the tradition of the Gingerbread Village.

The Gingerbread Village is a confectionary scale model of our beloved town center. You know, the town center - the site of Old Home Day, the place for trick-or-treating. Every year around this time, the Third Graders head down to the town center to select and sketch their individual buildings. They are then tasked with constructing their assigned building out of cardboard, within certain parameters of height and such. Then they bring them all in and spend an entire school day covering them them with graham crackers and candy.

Third Grader selected the Barn of Blood.

I'm tired of all this hyperlinking, so just go on back to October's posts if you want to know more about the Barn of Blood. Suffice it here to say that it is old and large and involves both a house and a barn. I am entirely sure that Third Grader picked it because it is both enormous and, at least here, famous. Fortunately, her teacher had the good sense to divide the barn and the house between two children, so Third Grader ended up with just the house.

What I'm saying is that we are supposed to build this damn thing out of cardboard before Monday. MONDAY. Sure thing. Right after I finish working all day and carting them around every which way all night, I'll get right on that.

I'm not very...buildy, you know? At the sight of that little girl's sketch, I kind of panicked. I knew this was coming and have been squirreling away cardboard for a few weeks, but the thought of actually building it completely freaks me out. When Fifth Grader was Third Grader, I made her father help her. Of course, he was not living a thousand miles away then, so it was easier to make such demands. So, after pondering the matter for several hours, I did something I never, ever do. I played the Girl card.

I'm not very experienced with playing the Girl card. Alas, Boyfriend did not require much display of feigned (...okay, real) helplessness before he stepped up and offered to take over the whole project. All I had left to do was clear the plan with Third Grader...who leapt at the suggestion. Leapt.

She is currently not my favorite.

So after I picked my ego up off the floor, I asked the elated child, "You do know that girls are perfectly capable of building things, right? I just thought you might be happier with your house if he helped you. I can do it, you know...it's just not my best skill, building things..." at which point, having got my drift, Third Grader piped up to reassure me.

"It's okay, Mom. People are good at different things. Like you're good at making coffee!"

Making coffee. This is what she came up with. Thankfully, Fifth Grader then jumped in and rattled off a dozen things that I am "good at." She is currently my favorite.

Noticeably missing from the list of things I am "good at" was my ability to attract comments here. My ego has been bruised, people. By a third grade girl. Do you grasp the fragility?

If anyone needs any coffee while they think of something to say, just let me know.