fortune-telling fever

Do you remember these? Frances ran up to me after school with one in hand, breathless with excitement. On the way to the car it began to come apart in a way that proved challenging to fix, so she burst into tears and accused me of meanness. I wasn't sympathetic enough, apparently. Well, yes. I took a few deep breaths, reminded myself of her late night the day before, and reminded her that even if she was frustrated she was not allowed to take it out on me. (Ha! I can at least try...)

And then I told her we could look up how to make fortune tellers online (tutorial here). The mood lightened. Truth is I was a little excited too. I don't think I've seen one of these since the sixth grade and they are a lot of fun.  At home Gabriel got in on the action and the children were shortly screaming with delight, shock, laughter, and disappointment. Instead of your middle school version-- full of boys' names and cities where you might live when you grow up--these fortune tellers are firmly set in early childhood.

For example, Gabriel dictated the following fortunes for his teller:

*You will jump on the windowsill and touch the ceiling.

*You will poop on a lizard tomorrow.

*You will turn into a basketball player.

*You will sleep in my bunk bed tonight.

*You will pee in your underwear.

*You will fly on a bird's back. 

*You will go to a carnival. Right away!

Can you imagine how he choked and spluttered and laughed til he could barely stand when I unwittingly chose the pooping on a lizard's back option? I finally set aside dinner preparations and sat on the big orange chair so the two of them could stand on either side of me while I chose colors and numbers and received the oracle in question's pronouncements, over and over. And each time I did, they looked at each other with almost maniacal gleams in their eyes and shrieked with laughter no matter what the fortune turned out to be. 

The stakes are high because both kids kinda sorta believe that by manipulating a small square piece of paper they are controlling the future. It's real, people. The kids have found a way to get a firmer grasp on their own fates, a blessed back door out of this world full of arbitrary adults, violence in the newspaper, early bedtimes, natural disasters, unbearably short recess, and all the tragedies that they have no control over in their lives. 

So it isn't surprising that this morning there were fortune teller-induced tears from Gabriel, after Frances threatened to give him a bad fortune. Didi, no! No!! he yelled, scared and angry, convinced that she could command all the pianos and safes dangling outside upper-story windows in the world. I sat down with the two of them and talked about how fortune tellers are fun but they can't really tell the future. Gabriel persuasively pointed out his "you will get candy soon" fortune that Frances had promised to fulfill. I will get candy soon, Mama! See? I quoted Mother Badger and explained that there are certain kinds of wishes and fortunes that you can make come true. And those are the best kinds.

Both kids looked at me blankly. They wandered off, firm in their belief that the fortune tellers are magic--real magic. They looked so small and strong together, on their own kid team. They're right, I don't get it. Too grown up. Grown up enough to delight in their solidarity and mutual understanding, even if it means a few tears now and then.