Tonight we made fortune tellers. Rose #1's is "Mr. Know It All." I hope it doesn't know everything, since I asked it 1) if I would be professionally successful and 2) if i would become a Pulitzer-prize winning author. It said "NO" on both accounts. Stupid Fortune Teller.
Rose #3 made a fortune teller too. She decided that her fortune teller was a Taiwanese gymnast. (Um, what?) Here she is posing with it like a beloved child:
And here is just a generally goofy picture:
Fortune tellers are a cross that every parent has to bear. The agony of being asked to pick a color. (Last night Rose #3 whispered to herself: "Red. Please pick red." This is because "red" is the only color word she can spell, and everyone who is anyone knows that the first step of operating the fortune teller is to spell the color that the hapless victim selected as you work your hand to make the fortune teller open and close.) The trial of picking a number, and then another number. The tribulation of listening to the actual fortune ("you are nice," "you are stupid," or unfortunately for me, just "NO").