Grouchiness

I haven't had enough sleep. Am I dull-witted and unresponsive? Am I snappish? Do I suddenly explode with impassioned pleas to my children to PLEASE CAN'T YOU NOTICE THE BITS OF TRASH ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR AND PICK THEM UP? Do I blog about random incidents, long past, that made me grouchy? Yup, low on sleep.

Here's what has me grouchy tonight.

Years ago, I attended a birthday party of an acquaintance's daughter. I found myself wedged on the couch between two women, mother and daughter. They were related to the birthday girl, but that's not what we talked about. Because, first of all, I didn't do much talking at all. They did. And all they talked about was Maddy.

Maddy was the younger woman's five-year-old daughter. I met her when she ran through once or twice, and she didn't strike me as particularly remarkable. But her mother and grandmother certainly thought she was, and they had the stories to back it up. It was as if they got started and just couldn't stop themselves. I heard about the fits Maddy would throw when she was a toddler. I heard about the funny things Maddy said at school. I heard about how Maddy collected dead flies and put them in her dollhouse. All these stories were related with close attention to detail, so that I didn't miss any of the wonder that was Maddy.

And then, then, a ten-year-old girl came to talk to the mother. As I listened, I realized who this girl was. It was like a great reveal in a soap opera: this was the long-lost older sister that nobody had ever mentioned! In all that interminable Maddy-saturated conversation, neither the mother nor grandmother had once mentioned that there was also Ally.

Even now, years later, I'm irritated at those women. I wonder if Maddy is still the shining wonder of her mother and grandmother's lives. And I occasionally think of Ally and wonder how she's doing in that cold shadow of Maddy's.

I really need to get some sleep tonight.

-- SJ