Ah, Them Kids

Just love my kids and love Chepa's new babies, Sierra and Alexa. Sierra had a birthday last week and got a zillion presents and had it catered largely by yours truly at Chepa's house. Alexa's birthday was last month. She turned two; Sierra turned four.
They've been over for dinner the last couple of days. Sunday was for a superbowl bar-be-que; last night was just for visiting. The girls came in the house while I was washing the kitchen down after cooking--uncle Clem's chicken, a broccoli/chicken dish with a good sauce topped in mozzarella cheese was in the oven--and ran to my arms. I scooped them both up. Sierra had a rolling book bag with her that was filled with toys. Alexa had a baseball-sized lump of yellow Playdough that she promptly started tossing all over the place, breaking it into bits I'm still finding today and will no doubt continue finding for a week.
While dinner cooked they went out and fed the chickens and ducks with Madeleina--we've got two new ducks but lost two more of the chicks to the hawks in the last couple of days (Note to self: gotta get that coop covered) for which Madeleina blames me. How do I know? Because she says things like: "We lost two more of the chicks, dad. Thanks a lot. I blame you."
But the babies loved finding a few eggs and I made them wash their hands real well after they put them up.
Nice dinner, nice playing, and when it was time to go Chepa grabbed a couple of chicken legs left over from Sunday and a bowl of uncle Clem's. On the way out the door Sierra stopped to ask: "Mr. P Garman. Will you bring the donuts tomorrow?"
"Sure, if you want me to."
"Okay. Don't forget Mr. P Garman." And then they were gone.
This morning, I was up at 4:30, working at 4:45 and still sitting in my underwear when I got a call at 7:54.
"So you're not coming?"
"I didn't know I was supposed to."
"Madeleina is waiting for you."
"I'll be there."
"Cholazo."
"Chola."
I threw on some clothes, tore apart some chicken and made Madeleina a sandwich. I tossed it, along with a juice box and a yogurt, into a paper bag for her lunch and raced out the door. Made it to Chepa's in about 10 minutes from the call.
Madeleina hopped in, I got her to school on time. On the way back from school I bought 3 chocolate glazed donuts, 3 glazed and 3 pigs in a blanket. I ate two pigs in a blanket on the way to Chepa's.
The kids were up when I arrived and Alexa ran into my arms. I swept her up. As I did Sierra said: "You better let me help you with that box, Mr. P Garman. What could be in there?"
"What do you think?"
"I think it's donuts."
She took the box to the table, opened it and offered it to Italo, who was working on his taxes. "You want a donut, Italo?"
"No, little girl. I don't want no stinking donuts from that crazy man."
"He's not crazy. That's Mr. P Garman and he's you daddy. He could beat you up."
"Oh yeah? He's too old for me. I got superhuman, alien strength little girl..." he said, making muscles.
"My daddy has more muscles than you."
She turned her attention back to the donuts. She was stuck between the chocolate glazed and the regular glazed, then shifted to the pig in a blanket.
"Is there only one of this?" she asked me.
"Yeah. Cause I ate two."
She looked at me quizzically. "What the hell is this? Just one?"
I don't think she'd ever used the phrase before and it had Chepa, Italo and I doubled over instantly. She repeated it. About 10 times. It got less charming with each repetition. When we stopped laughing we explained that that wasn't a nice phrase. She pouted and started to put the pig in a blanket in her mouth. Just at that moment Alexa came flying across the room.
"Mine!" she shrieked, snatching it just as Sierra was about to take a bite.
Sierra burst into tears. "Look what Alexa did! She stole my donut!"
Then she walked over to Alexa, took it from her, broke it in half and handed half back to her. "We have to share, Alexa. Cause Mr. P Garman only brought one. He ate the rest. He's a pig."
Alexa broke into tears and walloped her. She hates getting half of anything.
Me? Well, two inconsolable little girls screaming, one of them calling me a pig, I figured I'd just beat a fast retreat to the safety of my own home.