on children (and medusa)

no, not my own children (let's not talk about the sad sort of clanging coming from the clock in hall, with my absurd little ovaries popping out to say cuckoo. CUCKOO!)

(though that's happening, too.)

no, this is about the children that previous unto today, ignored my very existence.  children that live, in fact, ten feet from us.

yes, our host family children.  our nieces and nephews?! as they call us "meeng" and "boo" (aunt and uncle), so we'll go with that. let's get to the point.

they hate me.

clarification! up until today, five p.m. greenwich-cambodian time, they hated me.

we're not talking a "they prefer topher over me" kind of thing, either.  it was an actual dislike, as compared to a love.

truly, when i biked through the gate, they used to run inside the house. screaming, terrified, tears streaming down their face from the shocking view of the medusa. that kind of run.

but when he came, a wheel clicking through that gate? they came out, giggling, and high-fiving and laughing and jumping up on his bike and pouring their adorable kid magic all over HIM (him being the man i call husband.)

oh, ho, but now. NOW!

now, they lurrrvvveee meeng.  jumping on my knees, reaching for my arms, snuggling in my neck kind of lurve.  "i like meeng!" was a common turn of phrase round these parts two hours ago.

and i didn't even have to bribe then with chocolate from phnom penh.

(let's not pay attention to the fact that topher had to pronounce my awesomeness many times, and lead them to me.  it's just not important, in the long run.)

dear lord, will our real children hate me for the first five months as well?

let's not think about it.

how was your weekend?