Shoes, Halloween and Fall

Of course, they would both love red shoes. Of course, there would be only one pair in the store that fit both of them. Of course, Clara would first reject and then covet Margaret's red shoes, which aren't leaving Tita's feet until she's in the bath tub. Think ruby slippers and the red shoes and you can understand the attraction, er, obsession. And then you, like me, can hear the gears just whirring away in Clara's fevered little brain as she tries to trick Margaret out of her shoes. Stay tuned.
I now have school girls, who talk about school, their teachers and their classmates. Clara has one friend, she tells me, while Margaret is friends with everyone. It's funny how they recognize each other's backpack and lunch box and other belongings. One of the jobs at school is to be the lunch boxer, and it's Margaret's favorite. She beams when she gets to tell me she has been the lunch boxer that day. The lunch boxer hands out all the lunches to the appropriate person. On Saturday we will go to a birthday party for Bella, a classmate, at the nearby city zoo. I'm looking forward to it. It's a book exchange, not a present thing.
Margaret continues to have problems with poop, but not much else. We have returned to kindermusik, taught by the beloved Miss Holly. On Tuesday, Miss Holly was singing Baby Beluga to them, and the children were responding. Later, after Clara had fallen asleep, I could hear Margaret singing to herself. Singing all the words, and singing in tune. Yay! I wonder if she's going to be one of those people who plays the piano just for herself? Stay tuned.
For Halloween, Clara was a witch, "a good witch." This was evident in her green witch's hat. She wanted Margaret to be her black cat, but Margaret had other ideas. She was a woodland fairy, complete with wings. A couple of people thought she was an angel. She indignantly corrected them. Neither child can get her head around Halloween. I mean, you dress up, knock on a door, and a stranger gives you CANDY? Not even Mama does that. Especially not Mama. Now, of course, they have forgotten about their candy and moved on to the next thing. Thinking about Santa and good girls and boys and coal.