We just needed a little touch of green the other day, and so we hiked off for a morning at the greenhouse:
After the greenhouse we were just sitting around on campus, and the girls could not agree on where they wanted to go next. Sydney wanted to walk home and play, but Willow wanted to walk to the library and read. I told the girls to find a compromise and figure it out, and then I sat back and read for a while.
Willow was a champion negotiator, and kept offering all these compromises: "Let's go to the library for two hours, then we'll go home and I'll play anything that you want for two hours;" "Let's go to the library, and the next time that I have money I'll buy you a present;" "Let's go to the library, and when I have candy I'll give it to you."
Sydney was having none of this compromise business, and so eventually I told her that she just plain lost due to her failure to attempt a negotiation. And she threw a fit.
But on our way to the library, hiking through Dunn Woods, Syd still throwing a fit (but silently, since silent public fits is the only rule that I have ever been able to instill in my children, pretty much), she spied something. She stopped in her tracks, squatted down, sifted through the fallen leaves next to the path for a minute, and unearthed a pristine little doll. It's some sort of litle plastic character, with a rubber dress that's practically impossible to put on and take off, just about the size of Sydney's palm.
Sydney ran over to me, doll clutched in her hand, and showed it to me, screaming, "I am SO glad that we're going to the library!"
The way home, you see, is another direction--no doll lying next to that path.