So, my niece is staying with us for four days out of the week while her mother works in Vegas.  How do I deal with that, you ask?  With a lot of prayer (mostly so I don’t kill myself or her) and with some humor.  Or a little Ouzo and Coke, whichever is closest at hand.

She came in the other day and told me that she was working on her room so that she would be able to meet her mother’s boyfriend in Vegas when he comes.  I looked at her like, yeah?  And how does that impact my life?  She said she needed boxes to pack all of her junk in.  I have some boxes.  Okay, so she can have some of my boxes. This is where the trouble starts. 

She has everything known to man in that room.  And it’s not like she has the entire room to herself in which to store the stuff- she has a corner of the room and her mother has the rest of the room.  My niece’s stuff is overflowing every drawer and shelf she has.  Things like arcade trinkets, bubble solution in dinky squeeze bottles on string, broken bracelets and single earrings are dribbled everywhere.  She’s got toys she’s never played with, RC cars with no batteries and bent antannae, and socks that, to me, are too black on the bottom to bother washing.  These are the things she’s saving and stuffing into boxes.  They’re already taped shut, too- as if a box cutter won’t allow me or her mother the good time of looking through them just one more time.

The last thing she came out with was this: a certificate from the store where she got her ears pierced.  She held it reverently and in a shaky voice asked whether I thought she should save it or not.  In twenty years, I said, is this going to be important to you?  She shrugged.  How about in two years?  She shrugged.  Can you wear earrings?  No, she said, my ears got too infected to wear earrings.  Then I guess it’s not important to keep the certificate for being such a brave girl in getting your ears pierced with earrings that infected your ears, right?  She gave a quick nod in the affirmative and looked at me like the fireworks had just exploded in her head.  She got it!  And now, I can sit back and write my articles about the cute kid who is finally really cleaning her room for the first time in her twelve years.