Coming to the end of school

This afternoon, the girls and I were lying on our bed. The ceiling fan was turning slowly, creating a slight wind that necessitated my getting both girls a blanket. And then I had to tell them witch stories. They love to be scared and entertained. Ghosts and witches abound in our house. They move dirty clothes, take dishes out of the sink and create all kinds of havoc. So says Clara. It was so pleasant lying on the bed with them both snuggling into my armpits, delighted to be scared just a little.
School ends for them on Wednesday with an ice cream sundae party. Margaret has made great progress on her social skills, thanks to a pre-school special education teacher sent by the school district. Come August, when school starts up, Margaret will be getting occupational therapy as well. It's so great that they come to the school. Clara is worried about her class breaking up and about not having the same beloved teacher next year. She can't get her head around the concept. She keeps telling me she wants to stay with Miss Bette.
Gene makes the girls read aloud to him before they can watch a video or swing in our new outdoor swing. Margaret is very motivated to do this because she loves the swing better than anything. Clara is balking about reading. She has been for the past few days. She wants me to swing her if Gene isn't home. No dice. Today, she told me that she had really truly done her reading. When I asked, who did you read to? she didn't miss a beat. "An octopus, Mama, really." When I said nothing, she confessed, "All right, it was really a fish." I'm not that easy to fool, but I loved her attempts to do so.
We went to our church picnic on Sunday out at a member's farm. There were bunnies to see and pet, so Margaret was in heaven. And horses to see running around. Plus, a swing set and even a trampoline. The old kind, with no net and no padding on the springs. The kind that sends kids into wheelchairs. I have found a safe trampoline, but it costs $600, so it won't be coming to live at our house anytime soon, believe me. Of course, now Clara and Tita want it.
The picnic was great, with a table of homemade foods, older kids to entertain the younger ones and nice people to talk to. In the late afternoon, I asked Clara to stay put and then I went to lead Margaret away from the trampoline and to the potty. When we returned, Clara wasn't to be seen. I didn't think anything bad had happened to her, but I was a bit panicked. After looking a little for Clara, I stopped Margaret from charming an unsuspecting daddy into putting her on the trampoline and deposited her with some friends so I could widen my search.
When I saw my Clara standing by our car, I felt tears in my eyes. She was smiling and almost crying, too. I scooped her up and kissed her and she said, in a slight scold, "Where were you, Mommy? I don't like to lose you, you remember that."