A Dialogue between Beezus and I:
We are entering the humid, dark garage that has boxes piled up in the second car spot, boxes in the open loft, and boxes piled in front of our car. We are in a rush to get my man from work, because we still have only one car and I am our personal family taxi!
Beezus: Mom I am scared.
Mom: (I'm in a rush, opening the kids car door, throwing my purse on the passenger side seat.) Of what? (I turn to see Beezus still in the door way.) Beezus get out here and get into the car.
Beezus: (Taking a couple steps down into the garage and towards the car.) I'm scared of the garage. I don't like how dark it is.
Mom: Well, get into the car a little faster then. (A couple minutes later - as we are bucking up.) Yeah, the garage scares me too.
Beezus: Why?
Mom: The mess.
Beezus: Why would the mess be so scary?
Mom: Because I will have to clean it and I bet no one is going to help me. (This is me hinting. Hint, hint, hint!)
Beezus: I am scared because when I see all those boxes I think a monster is hiding behind them. (Obviously she is missing the hint for help cleaning).
Mom: I would love to find a monster in there!
Beezus: Why?
Mom: Because then that big, strong monster will help me clean all those heavy boxes up in this hot garage. And then the monster will be like, "Geeze, Miss, you are so young, beautiful, smart and kind. So what if spelling and grammer are foreign concepts! And, I bet you cook swell. Would you make me a dinner for helping you clean the garage?" And then I will be like, "Sure". Then after dinner he will be like, "Gosh, you are the best cook in the whole world. Thank you so much for dinner". (That is me hinting again, for thanks and help).
Beezus: I don't know mom. I think the monster would just eat you. (Not catching my hint, again.)
Mom: Phft.
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