Oh, the NaNo novel is
I have a problem of

I was in the family

I was in the family room, picking up the same four million books I picked up yesterday and the day before and the day before and the day…
Wait. Off track there.
From the kitchen I heard Raphi’s voice pipe up, registering great alarm.
“Oh no! Ah bwoke it!” I winced, but didn’t jump up immediately. “I broke it” can mean “I tore the tiny bit of paper from the band-aid wrapper I’ve been carrying around” or “I knocked over the stack of blocks I’ve been playing with” or “Watch Mama jump when I say this.”
Or sometimes it means “I broke it.”
He came running over to my side, a picture of concern. “Come here, Mama! Ah bwoke it!”
“What did you break, baby?”
“Ah bwoke…” he cast a desperate glance over his shoulder, searching for the word, “dat white one! Ah bwoke de one white one!” Ok, then. Possibly he actually broke something. I hauled my aging self up off the floor and took his proffered fat hand. He trotted me into the kitchen, where I found the “one white one” that he bwoke. That would be an egg. And apparently before becoming alarmed about it he danced about in it.
Big sigh.
Tre and Max came tearing into the kitchen. You know how dogs can smell fear? Boys can smell a mess. They were mightily impressed, and wondered if they might not get a turn with the eggs.
I said no and shooed them out. I scooped my wee angel Raphael up to sit on the counter so I could wash off his feet. Then I set him down, instructing him not to touch the eggs anymore. “Ok, Mama. Jus’ one egg?”
“No eggs. Do not touch the eggs or I will swat your bottom.” He was taken aback by my unreasonable stance on the issue, but agreed. As I mopped up the egg slime he watched intently. I tossed the last gooey paper towel in the trash and he nodded with satisfaction.
“Dis was a job for Shooperman,” he explained, and swaggered away.
Well, thank heaven for Shooperman.


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