Spotty connection and sock sorting

Munch, my seven-year-old daughter is sorting socks right now. Sorting socks used to be her sister's job, but Gin is slowly trying to train her younger sibling to take over some of her chores. I made this suggestion to Gin myself. I know Gin, who is 11, has more chores than Munch does, really does do more around here than either her sister or her 18-year-old brother. Most of the time, she does it without too much of a fuss, but lately she's been complaining - both that she doesn't want to do it and specifically mentioning her sister has fewer chores. So I told her to train her sister to do some things and make them her job. Personally, I like to try to get them to resolve their own problems among themselves. Gin had my permission, but it was up to her to select one of her jobs - that was appropriate for her sister - and train her as a replacement.

So anyway, Munch is sorting socks, and she just came in here to ask, "Is this sock blue or green?" I looked at it, and honestly, I could not for the life of me make the distinction myself. So I told her I couldn't tell myself but noted that really all she needed to do was find one that was the same. It didn't really matter for her purposes which color it was. I had to smile. I know she'd have to take the sock from room to room in all the different lights - and seek her sister's opinion as well - to determine once and for all whether the sock was blue or black. You see? This is part of the nature of Munch's personality and the reason she never gets anything done. She gets off on these little tangents. It's a constant struggle for me and her teachers at school. And it drives her sister nuts! Hehe.

Just as Munch walked out, I looked down at my laptop and noticed that the page wasn't loading. My internet connection dropped - again. I let out a huff and said, "Gad, what a pain!" (I'm moderately exasperated by my temperamental connection lately. I think it's the weather. The wireless signal is just being too sporadic for any other explanation.) A few seconds later, I realized that Munch was still standing in the doorway looking at the sock. I also realized how that must have sounded at that moment. I immediately said, "Oh, not you, honey - my internet connection." She replied, "Oh, I know, mommy." Of course, she's been hearing that a lot lately.

I just got the "you are not connected to the internet" page again.... Ugh, and I've got a column to research and write tonight. Should be fun....

(Posting the moment it comes up again.)