The Cast:
Sunny . . . . . . . . . an eight year-old
Jane . . . . . . . . . . a twelve year-old
My Husband . . . their father
My MIL . . . . . . . their grandmother
Me . . . . . . . . . . . . the mime (I assume)
_____________
ACT ONE:
Last Night
Sunny: “It’s Picture Day tomorrow! I’m going to wear my new pink dress!”
Me: “Good idea! Do you have clean tights for it?”
Sunny: “Yes, Mommy.”
Me: “Go make sure. If you need something washed, bring it to me and I’ll wash it right now.”
Sunny (running off): “Okay!”
Me: “Jane? What are you wearing tomorrow for Picture Day?”
Jane (poking at her 2DS with the stylus): “No idea.”
Me: “How about your blue sweater with the tank underneath?”
Jane: “I guess.”
Me: “Or that lace wrap you bought that looks so good over your blue top?”
Jane: “I guess.”
Me: “Why don’t you go figure it out. If you need any laundry done, let me know.”
Jane (wandering off, still poking): “Okay.”
ACT TWO:
This morning
Sunny: “Mommy! Where are my tights?”
Me: “You don’t have any?”
Sunny: “You said you would wash them!”
Me: “You didn’t give them to me.”
Sunny: “Yes, I did. The pink ones!”
Me: “The ones next to your fish tank? The ones you didn’t give to me?”
Sunny: “I thought you would see them there.”
Me: “. . .”
Sunny: “Can I wear these ones instead?”
Me: “Good idea. Jane? Are you dressed, yet?”
Jane: “Yeah.”
Me: “You’re wearing a tee-shirt for Picture day?”
Jane: “What wrong with it?”
Me: “Nothing. You just usually like to dress up.”
Jane (shrugging): “Everything I wanted to wear is dirty.”
Me: “I told you I’d wash whatever you wanted.”
Jane (shrugging): “I didn’t know what I wanted.”
Me: “Are you wearing a bra?”
Jane: “YES, Mom, I’m . . . Oh. Be right back.”
Sunny: “AAARRGGHHH!! I HATE MY HAIR!”
Me: “You have beautiful hair. Look, we’ll just brush it under a little. . . See?”
Sunny: “I want bangs.”
Me: “Okay, but we’ll have to wait until Friday.”
Sunny: “But that’s AFTER Picture Day!”
Me: “Yes, it is.”
Sunny: “My hair is all POOFY!”
Me: “It’ll settle. Do you want a headband?”
Sunny: “NO! HEADBANDS ARE STOOPID AND MAKE MY HAIR LOOK DANDELION BUSHY!”
Me: “Okay, no headbands. Maybe a pony tail?”
Sunny: “NO!”
Me: “All right. Your choice. But I promise, your hair will settle down.”
Sunny: “Hmmph.”
Me: “Go take your school stuff to the kitchen. Jane! Did you brush your teeth?”
Jane: “Yeah.”
Me: “You brushed your teeth?”
Jane: “YES, Mom, I . . . Oh. Be right back.”
My MIL: “Sunny’s hair looks like it hasn’t seen a brush for days!”
Sunny: “I TOLD YOU MY HAIR WAS TERRIBLE!!”
Me: “I brushed it. It looks fine. It’ll settle down.”
My MIL: “Maybe a headband would help?”
Sunny (bending over to dig into her backpack): “ALL RIGHT, I’LL WEAR A STOOPID HEADBAND!”
My MIL: “Well, I didn’t mean to upset anyone . . .”
Me: “Sweetheart . . . You can’t wear a yellow headband with a pink and black dress. It doesn’t go. I’m sorry.”
Sunny: “It’s the ONLY ONE I HAVE!”
My MIL: “No it isn’t, you have some very nice ones in pink and black. Where are they?”
Sunny: “In my room somewhere.”
Me: “We don’t have time to find them. We’re late already. Her hair is fine. Jane!”
Jane: “I’m tying my shoes!”
Me: “Did you brush your teeth?”
Jane: “YES. I mean, after this.”
My husband (to Sunny): “Oh, don’t you look pretty!”
My MIL: “I just wish someone would do something about her hair!”
Me: “I brushed it. Twice.”
Sunny: “I TOLD YOU IT WAS TERRIBLE!”
My husband: “It’s not. It’ll settle down, Mom. Maybe we should buy her a pick.”
Me: “That won’t settle it down. Jane!”
My husband: “No, but she can get at the underside herself. She’s only brushing the top.”
Me: “I brushed the underside this morning. JANE! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!”
Jane (from offstage): “Ah’m bruffing ma feeff! Ya WANNAG me coo bruff em, wight?!”
My MIL: “Maybe a ponytail?”
Sunny: “AAARRGGHHH!”
Me (giving up): “I’ll be in the car.”
Sunny (several minutes later): “Here you are, Mommy! Aren’t we going to be late?”
Earful of Cider 
“I just wish someone would do something about her hair” was my family in a nutshell.
And probably my hair, too.
On Sunday, no fewer than three people came up to me to compliment Sunny on the same head of hair she and my MIL (bless her strident, little heart) think is wrong.
Gah.
Hair is even more contentious than slang, I’m sorry to say.
Her hair has attitude, sounds like. Some people like attitude. 🙂
I like her hairtitude, but the morning sass is getting a bit tiresome! 😀
You’re a playwright!
Or a playwrong, anyway. 😀
No one would ever pay to see this . . . though I might be able to lever some money promising not to put it on stage!
Oh, how I love the way your MIL says juuuust the right thing to set Sunny off. I was snorting throughout. You should write a sitcom pilot.
It’s her &$%*$ superpower, Mike.
I’ve always wanted to write for TV. Maybe YouTube, someday?
No. Write a spec script, get an agent, and write for TV.
. . . Oh. Okay.
So get on that.
THIS is the beginning of a book…
Hmmm . . .
I’d have to wait until my MIL passes away to release it . . .
You wonder why I fled – I mean – strategically moved to Texas?
I really, really don’t.
Miss you anyway, though. 🙂