Every night after dinner while Mr. Yankee and I are picking up the table and cleaning up the kitchen, The Goose and The Rascal infallibly engage in some form of rough housing. They wrestle, they play a chasing game where The Goose runs all over the first floor of the house and The Rascal crawls after her at lightning speed; or The Goose may decide that she is a world famous dance instructor, just like Miss Lilly in the Angelina Ballerina books, and she will instruct The Rascal in ballet positions. Despite the variety of positions for which the Rascal receives instruction, they all turn out to be The Rascal holding a down dog yoga position for a few seconds.
This nightly ritual drives me nuts. It always involves a lot of loud squealing and screaming. It sometimes deteriorates into hair pulling and hitting. I nervously watch, envisioning The Goose slipping on the tile floor and smacking her head on a sharp corner of some piece of furniture, I worry that The Rascal has not yet been evaluated for atlantoaxial instability. Mr. Yankee and I have tried to establish “no indoor rough housing” rules; “only quite play after dinner” rules. But their need for this kind of interaction always wins and they won’t stop.
Last Friday night was a “Miss Goose The Ballet Instructor” night. The Rascal did her 4000th down dog, but, this time, instead of collapsing in a heap and rolling herself into a sitting position, The Rascal stood up and took her first wobbly steps! There was much celebration and I gained a new appreciation for this loud, nerve wracking ritual.
Here they are in action. And please note that I DO NOT make them wear matching outfits. The Goose likes to do this herself. She waits to see what I dress The Rascal in then she chooses her outfit accordingly.