As old as dirt

Rosa loves to have waves chase her.

“Daddy, are you as old as dirt?”

George dropped the newspaper he was reading, Julia let out a sharp laugh, Sybil smiled her evil smile, Timmy rolled his eyes and Brenda kept sleeping peacefully in her cot in Rosa’s room.

“Why do you ask me a question like that, young lady?”

“Well,” continued Rosa putting her crayon down and looking at her father laying on his favourite deck chair. “Well, my bestest friend Anjali, told me her father is 50 years old and then she asked me how old you were, and I said 500 years. So, she told me you must be as old as dirt!”

George shook his head in disbelief. By now one would think he would be used to his second youngest daughter’s outrageous pronouncements, but every time he felt he couldn’t hear anything more outrageous, Rosa surprises him. Before he said anything more, George looked around at his family as if he was looking for support, but none appeared to be forthcoming. So again, he was on his own. Sybil as usual looked at him with the same look which meant, ‘she’s your daughter, not mine,’ and so he continued.

“Rosa, no I’m not 500 years old. In fact, I’m the same age as Anjali’s dad, 50.”

“Oh,” replied Rosa not quite sure how to continue and so she went back to colouring her Junior Ranger colouring book. George picked up his paper while Sybil went back to looking out at the calm ocean, Julia decided it was nearly time to go into the kitchen to get lunch ready and Timmy just closed his eyes to soak up some sun.

“I thought you would be finished colouring the Junior Ranger book,” said her mother.

“No, mummy, I have a long way to go. I want to make sure I colour it properly because I want to win first prize and get a gold medal from the President.”

George thought it was probably a good time to ask his daughter who the President of the United States was, being that she had for the last week insisted it was he who would give her a gold medal. Elixabeth had tried her best to convince Rosa that the President didn’t have time for her, and Jeremy when he came up to the nest for dinner last Sunday and wasn’t making eyes at Elizabeth, told Rosa the opposite.

Rosa closed the book for a second and read the back cover, “Jessica Bowron,” she said.

“Who’s Jessica Bowron?” asked George.

“The President of America,” Rosa stated proudly.

“No, she isn’t,” replied Timmy.

“Yes, she is. It says that on the back of my book.”

“Can I see?” he asked and Rosa handed him the book telling him not to lose the page she was working on.

Timmy read the back of the book out loudly. “The Acting Commissioner of the National Park Service is Jessica Bowron. She’s not the President, Rosa.”

“Well she is. You just don’t know that the Commissioner and President is the same person. It’s just her acting name.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, doesn’t it say Acting Commissioner?”

“Yes it does but…”

“That means the President is acting like the Commissioner of the parks. You know like those people in Hollywood.”

“John Wayne,” said George out loudly.

“No, daddy. Bowron.”

“Rosa, you mentioned actors from Hollywood. So, I told you my favourite actor is John Wayne.”

“Daddy,” interjected Julia coming out of the kitchen to ask the family what they would like for lunch. “Joaquin Phoenix.”

“Who?” asked Sybil now fully engaged in what a few minutes earlier she thought was an inane conversation.

“He acted as Johnny Cash in a movie, mama.” Sybil clenched her beak. She hated Julia calling her mama.

“Barbie!” shouted Rosa who didn’t want to be left out. Again, on cue, the rest of the family looked at her.

“Barbie?” they asked in unison.

“Well, that’s my favourite actress,” she expanded.

“Barbie isn’t an actress. An actress played Barbie.”

“Oh,” replied Rosa believing she was now out of her depth and so she opened the Junior Ranger colouring book to continue. “Timmy! I asked you not to lose my page. Now I don’t know where to start again. Daddy… “

“Rosa, replied Timmy, “here give me the book. It’s only 10 pages,” and with that he took it away from Rosa and opened it up on the page she was colouring earlier.

Brenda cried. Rosa got up. “Sit down little one,” said Sybil jumping up so fast that the rest of the family were amazed at her being so quick. “She wants her mother.” And with that she opened the sliding glass doors and disappeared inside.

“What do you want for lunch guys?” asked Julia.

“What are our choices?” asked George not quite sure what he was in the mood for.

“Tuna fish salad or eggs.”

“Eggs!” shouted everyone except Rosa who shouted, “tuna fish,” at the same time. Feeling she had lost again, she collapsed on the deck still with the red crayon in her right wing and moaned.

“We have eggs every day daddy. Why can’t we have tuna fish for a change?”

“Rosa!” said Julia sternly, “we’ve had tuna fish every day so it’s time to have eggs.”

“Then can I have tuna fish and all of you can have eggs?”

“Mama!” shouted Brenda who was brought outside by Sybil. Rosa got up immediately and went over to her. Sybil who by now had given up on getting Brenda to understand that Rosa wasn’t her mother, immediately handed her to Rosa who suddenly realised she was too heavy for her and nearly dropped her on the deck. George rescued them both.

“Brenda,” said Rosa smoothing her feathers. She pointed to Sybil, “that’s your mother. I’m your big sister.”

But Brenda was still too little to understand the conversation when Rosa handed her back to her mother. “So, eggs it is,” continued Julia turning and walking back into the nest. Brenda sat on Sybil’s lap watching the rest of the family’s antics, giggly occasionally and drooling on Sybil’s dress which annoyed her. She thought for a second of handing her back to Rosa, but at the last moment decided not to, especially now that Brenda appeared to accept Sybil as her mother. So, Sybil sat there hoping and praying Julia would come back and announce that lunch was ready. The sliding glass door opened.

“Hello family!” Everyone groaned, it was Elizabeth. “Oh, I see. Oh, look how precious little Brenda is. Can I hold her?” and without waiting for permission she leant down and picked her up off Sybil’s lap. Brenda began to cry and drool on Elizabeth who immediately handed her off to Rosa and wiped her wing on Sybil’s dress.

“What are you doing?” shouted Sybil.

“Well, she’s your daughter I didn’t want her drooling on me. This is a very expensive outfit I have on. It cost a lot of money.”

“Oh don’t worry, Elizabeth,” George was highly amused by his family, “I’m sure you can sue someone tomorrow and buy another dress.”

Rosa sat on the ground with a very contented Brenda on her lap. George went back to his newspaper, Timmy closed his eyes, Sybil went back to looking out over the ocean.

“Auntie Elizabeth,” said Rosa, “how old are you?”

“500 years,” she replied without thinking, believing that that was what Rosa wanted her to say. “So, you’re as old as dirt then,” and with that, Elizabeth turned and left the deck slamming the sliding glass doors as she left the nest.