Of all the Nerf!!!

A night of high drama in our house.

Oddly enough, it all started with a Nerf gun, apparently aimed at the DQ by her brother. Honestly, you'd have thought he got her with a quick left hook to the kisser.

After I told her that she had plenty of times when she hit Mr. C too, it quickly escalated to: "I want to live with Dad."

When I offered the unwelcome opinion that Dad was far too intelligent to have the DQ live with him all the time, she took off -- to sit by a neighbor's tree. He doesn't love me either, she told me as she walked out the door and down our drive.

Leaving the dinner which I was tending (grits and shrimp, which somehow had become cornmeal and shrimp), I pulled on my boots and followed her brother down the road.

Naturally, every commuter coming into our small development could see us -- the DQ, sitting head bowed under the tree, me with my Halloween flashlight, and Mr. C on his bike. My dreams of a quiet evening of good food (well, my attempt at good food), a movie and two well-behaved, appreciatve kids disappeared.

Interesting idea, wrong planet.

When I finally lured her home with the promise a phone call to an empathetic friend (more so than moi) she was still pissed.

Eventually, though she calmed down. She came upstairs, threw her arms around me and apologized. I know you and Dad love me. I get too dramatic, she said.

Really?