The Exploits and Aliases of Emma: Streaker Extraordinaire

Emma is an enigma. Part 4 year old sister, part adorable blonde midget, part fruit loop, part hidden evil mastermind. In my mother's own words, "She is the most bizarre child." (Obviously she has forgotten my
childhood...)

Usually a jolly little elf, Emma ran to me this morning and clutched my leg, weeping. It was sudden, becaause i'd seen her only a moment earlier passionately kissing a door. She claims she was prodded with a garden tool by Glory (Most Wanted Sisiter #2). Who knows if it really did happen or what Emma did to provoke Glory, but in the end her fashion choices saved her hide. Nothing could pierce the multiple layers of leotards, frilly blouses, sweaters with embroidered Eskimos, and corduroy jumpers she wears. Jumpers, plural. Oh, and a tutu.

From the moment she was born she has been...unusual. I still remember playing with her when she was a freshly-baked little bun of a baby with crystal blue eyes and a a blonde, Vulcan-like hairstyle. Truly, she looked like a her mother was an angel and her father Spock. Anyway, so there we are. I, waving my arms around and contorting my face like a fool to entertain her. Emma, sitting in her car seat and laughing at this strange creature before her. In a, what I thought, show of sisterly affection she reached up and grabbed my hand. Smiling sweetly, she bit. For a toothless toddler her bite was worse than her bark. I can truthfully say that while she was growing out of her baby-hood I was nearly gummed to death several times.

I love her to cupcakes, but there have been trying circumstances. Most teenagers will invent a plethora of excuses why their homework is late:

"I accidentally put it in the offering at Church!"


"The school bully stole it from me at lunch!"


"Well, you see, I have this medical condition..."


"I was speeding and the cop took my essay to hold against me in court."


"I was abducted by aliens and they are currently using my homework to learn about the human mind."


"My/A (animal) ate it."


"It was pick-pocketed!"


"Oh, the book publisher has it to review for becoming their next novel."

You get the jist. Well, I have a honest-to-goodness excuses why my homework is missing, thanks to my lovely sister:

"Sorry, my sister found my homework and chewed it up."


"Oh, that paper! My sister Emma colored on it."


"The math problems were all done but my sister buried it in the garden for "treasure hunt"."


and, my favorite,


"I'm sorry, I had it completed but my little sister Emma peed on it."

Yes, peed. All over the literature assignment that I had hand-written. The potty-training years were hard on us all.

I no longer have to say, "What child? The one kissing that stranger's car? Nope, don't know her." Emma has started to give out aliases and completely re-writing her life story. At the doctor's office, for example:

Disco Doctor (thats a whole other story): "So, whats your name little girl?"

Emma: "Christina Georgey."

Me: "No, its not. It's Emma."

Emma (completely serious): "No. I'm Alice Georgy."

Me: "You said Christina."

Emma (Patting my knee pityingly): "You are wroooooong, Hannah.It's my new names."

When my Dad went to go pick-up Emma from the sunday school of a church we were visiting, the teacher looked shocked to see him. Emma quickly cleared up the confusion for everyone. "Oh, Daddddy! You are my other Daddy. My first Daddy died in the war. But then I married you!" Really, how long will it take these big-people to understand the simplest things?

Despite years of experience with the mysterious midget, she still manages to surprise me. Who wouldn't do a double-take when they glanced out the window to see their little sister, buck-naked, streaking with wild abandon through the yard for everyone to see?

This is exactly what she looked like. Only, more secretive and less frosting.

So thats it for now, its been awhile since I checked on my sisters and they've been scarily quiet. Past times when this has happened i've found them doing such delightful childhood activities such as, oh you know, having a tea party with creek water and a tea-time snack of rocks and dirt (which Emma tried to eat). Oh, or hunting down one of my friends and pantsing them. Yes, this really has happened. Or hosting stuffed-animal cage fighting in the garage. But, come what may, life is never dull with Emma around. Hilariously humiliating, maybe.But never dull.

I love you, Emma.

My sisters are the darndest things,
-Hannah

Thursday Night Fever (with complimentary A Disco Pancake Buffet)

SPLAP. I looked around to make sure no one was looking and picked up the pandcake that had dropped in the kitchen sink. There might be some dish soap residue so i'd just feed it to Emma. Speaking of the little munchkin, where was she? I followed her melodious voice and found her under the table. 

"Ooooo, Hannah Mooosick! I'm so glad you came. Do you want some free moneys? I have freeeeee moneysssss!" Emma pulled a blue coinpurse and chuckled like a con artist at a gas station with a arm full of fake Rolex. All she needed was some sandy stubble and she would have been a dead ringer for a 3 year old Sawyer. 

"What do you have, Emma?"

She grinned and carefully opened the coinpurse, making sure to keep it out of my reach in case I was going to grab and run. Deciding that I wasn't going to outright steal her most likely counterfeit money, she drew out a single, shiny quarter. Winking, she asked, "You wants the free moonnnneeeeeyyyy?"

"You can keep it, thanks."

"Okeyyy. Goodbye, Miss Moosick!" Quickly locking her purse she scooted back under into the shadows of the table, humming a slightly sinister version of "Shake Your Boo Thing" and lay in wait for the next sucker to come along. (really, where does she pick these things up?)

My pancakes tonight weren't exactly....pancakes. I honestly don't know what went wrong. I followed the recipe (mostly), I flipped them expertly (except for the ones on the ceiling. They'll come down eventually.), and they looked golden brown (okay, maybe more hard-core video gamer pale). They might not have been pancakes, but they were wonderful tortilla crepes!

You know those days when you never quite make it out of your PJ's and technically what you eat for breakfast isn't anywhere on the food pyramid? When you are so busy or lazy that you decide, nah, I don't need to do my hair or makeup today; no one's going to see me but my family anyway and what do they care? Today was one of those days for me. Unfortunately, not for everyone else.

I had just finished my math lesson and was stretching my arms and yawning. The girls were playing quietly, Dad wasn't home yet, and I didn't have to start to make dinner for at least 2 hours. Time to check out Charlie McDonald. 

For those of you who don't know Charlieissocoollike, shame on you. He is a British guy who makes various musical, talented, and entertaining vlogs and vids on youtube. Not all his vids are as charming as his hair, but on a whole I anticipate his new videos and have been a loyal fan for a very long time. Anyway, this was my chance to check up and see if he had a new video. Unfortunately, he did not. Sad face. However, not all was disappointed because I saw that one of my favorite K-pop bands had come out with a new song! Hooray and bunkigayo!

(A Note on KPop: Few people share my musical tastes on this and even some of my closest friends think i'm a weirdo for liking it. And maybe I am. But if you don't tease me about my G-Dragon then I won't tease you about your Keshia, John Lennon, and other differing musical preferences. I know I have a slight Asian obsession. Consider Kpop my therapy.)

Aaaannnyyyway, back to my delight. Seeing as I was alone and very happy, I decided to do a quick spurt of joyous victory dancing. Like everyone, I have my own styles. It was a explosive mixture of  "general optimism", "I'm in my PJs", "Math is done", and "Asian boy squueee!". Regardless, it was a pretty potent dance. (Not to mention ridiculous, as all victory dances are to some extent). It wasn't until the door bell rang that I realized that my sunburned neighbor (who bears an amazing resemblance to Charlie Brown) was watching the whole thing from the front door window and was awkwardly waiting for me to stop dancing like a fool and answer the door. After a moment of meteor-embarrassment and guppy fish-face, I smoothed my hair, turned off the music, and calmly strode to the door in my PJs.

"Hi."

"Yeah...is your Dad home?"

"Not right now, no."

"Well, I was a lookin' at your garden and was wondrin' if you wanted me to bring my plow over."

"I'm not sure, but I can ask him to call you when he gets home?"

"Alrighty.....bye'."

"Goodbye."

I calmly shut the door, waved farewell, and promptly flung myself onto the couch with a groan. The moral of my story? Dance like a fool in your PJs all you like, but only in windowless rooms. That, and always till your garden before you bust a move. Just to be safe.

Mystery Pancakes,

-Hannah

My Father is Dead, but it's Ok, We Have Nan Bread!

One of the universal truths of life: Kids say the darnedest things. So do adults.

A perfect example of this would be going to lunch with my family (sans Jonmark, he's blowing things up). It was after church and the girls were groaning for food, Food, FOOD! Communion wine, biscuits, and the food of fellowship just don't cut it sometimes.

So we headed to perhaps my favorite eatery of all time (brace yourself, Steph): The House of India! Oooooh, its so good. Red Tandoori chicken, chole, NAN!!!!!, Kheer, jalebi, the list goes on and on. I'm literally drooling right now just thinking about it. Best part it the food is quality and quantity, they have a buffet.

As a middle-class American family, we follow the buffet principle: Eat Until Your Stuffed. And we did. And it was delicious. And we wobbled out the door later and took long, lazy, satisfied naps of well-fed people. But i've skipped the story, so lets go back to the savory bits.

Recently we've been watching "Bizzare Foods", a tv show with a host who eats anything and lies about liking half of it. Most of the foods are from countries where the blood and guts are still used in pop cuisine, so we've seen some pretty gross stuff go into this guy's mouth. Anyway, I was asking my mom and dad if there was a kind of food that we should try next. We've tried Japanese, Indian, Mexican, American, and Junk Food. Whats next?

Dad, quoting one of the more...akward...Bizarre Foods episodes yelled out: "WE HAVEN'T TRIED BULL TESTICLES!" then calmly went to go get some more nan. Oh, my father. My father.

Just for a change of pace, we decided this morning to visit another church that alot of old friends went to (Thats another story onto itself) and I got to see Monica's boyfriend, his lovely daughter, and his beard (Wink, wink, hint, hint ;)

Anywho, the girls were telling us about their Sunday School classes over lunch. That Lazarus guy got raised from the deads again, we got christmas cookies, the usual. What was UnUsual, however, was Emma's comment:

Mom: So, how were your teachers?

Glory: Ok.

Mom: What were their names?

Glory and Emma: I dunno. They gave us cookies.They were old cookies.

Glory: Emma told the teacher about Dad.

Me: What about Dad?

Emma: My first Dad was dead in the war.

Everyone: WHAT?

Dad: I'm not dead!

Emma: (patronizingly) No, no, no. My FIRST Dad. You second Dad. Your not dead. (Pats Dad's hand).

Mom and I: (Snort, giggle, uncontrollable laughter)

Mom: (realization!) Oh no!

Us: What?

Mom: When we went to go pick the girls up I told them Dad had gotten lost on the way over to pick them up!No wonder the teacher looked so shocked!

Everyone: (Laughing to the point of tears)

So thats what you can expect from a lunch with my family: Incorrect facts and the loud announcements that may be slightly embarrassing to everyone but my father. If you never want to come to my house again, i understand. You'll most likely end up embarrassed or rumored dead. Eat at your own risk!

Gill-Stuffed Goodness,

-Hannah