Mac is Tired

I was excited when Rosie stood on the pew and whispered into my ear, “Mac comes today.”

Indeed, it was true.  Susie met Phyllis in Greensboro at a lunch place.  They had made an arrangement to hand Mac off, to share the driving and accommodate everyone’s schedule.

She’ll be at our home through Wednesday afternoon (back in time for the game.)

When I got back, later on Sunday, from a 43-mile ride that made me more familiar with my limitations, Mac was in our living room, monitoring a game of Monopoly.

“I will trade Rosie a dark green for a purple,” John says.  If you know Monopoly, then you realize the problem with this transaction.  It is like predatory lending.  Someone has to keep people from being hurt.  In this case, it is John who wants to make a foolish transaction.

“Oooh,” says Mac, “Pennsylvania for Baltic.  I don’t know if you should do that, little boy.”

Mac folds her arms and looks out the window as she says it.  I am thinking that she has great patience to sit and mediate.  Then again, it could be that she is merely unable to get away from our large pink couch.  It is deep.  It can swallow even the sturdiest back.

Either way, monitoring the game is a good job for an adult.  For a Mac.

This evening, I’m again the one out and about.  I get back and its story time. Rosie is trying to read about the Tortoise and the Hare.  John is reading to Mac.  Yet Rosie is livid, she’s been waiting for Mac to read for ten minutes and that never panned out.

“Forget about it,” Rosie says, throwing her heels down upon the bed.  It’s a lot of madness in 28 pounds, made all the more daunting by being cloaked inside a Superman costume.

Mac is tired.  She was browning some onions, and that wore her out.  And, earlier, she was on the phone.  Walking down the steps from the driveway in the back wore her out, too.

I think what we are witnessing are the differing reactions to Mac’s condition among our children.  John is older.  He has spent more time with Mac.  He has more maturity.

Rosie can’t remember Mac from two years ago.  She’s just discovering her right now.  And, what she discovered even a month ago isn’t all there anymore.  Rosie had a bad nightmare last night.  She was crying that her mother was sick. She really doesn’t want to play with Mac anymore.  She wants to be left alone by the whole situation.

I think, maybe, that Rosie is crying about Mac.

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