I Rocking

This packing stuff is pretty exhausting when you’re little. Especially when you make it your life’s mission to “help out” by emptying boxes almost as quickly as they’re filled. Or, conversely, putting whatever you can find into whatever box you can get your little hands on. Then there’s the task of moving all empty boxes around the house so you can play with them. And of course, running around rooms as they slowly are emptied of their contents. Yes, moving is hard work when you’re little.

One morning, while Ella was at camp, a line of storms moved in. Nothing severe, but a very impressive looking front as it settled over us.

Lily and I worked on clearing out the attic storage room. We made very good progress and it was mostly empty. The only remaining items were some file cabinets, a rocker and lamp (all that belonged to the house) and our still assembled Christmas tree. It was very dark and dreary in the house as the rain fell. I noticed Lily seemed to have disappeared. Given her past history of escape, I quickly checked to make sure the doors were locked. Once I was secure in the knowledge that she was in the house somewhere, I began sweeping each floor/room. Finally, I get upstairs where I notice the attic door is ajar. I peek in to find Lily sitting in the rocker, in the dim room…slowly rocking, maniacally. If you’ve ever watched a horror flick, you know this scenario always ends gruesomely. I cautiously asked Lily what she was doing, meanwhile I was waiting for the walls to start bleeding and her head to spin. She just quietly replied, “I rocking.” It was just entirely too creepy for me, so I ushered her out of the attic and onto more cheerful endeavors.

I found her more than once in there. Each time, creepy.