What are you doing?

Our upstairs neighbours killed our internet connection yesterday. While they were hanging up their laundry over the balcony they dropped a pair of red shorts, which landed on our phone line, pulling it apart at the various places it's been broken apart and twisted back together. Heaven forbid they solder anything together here when twisting it back together works just fine...until your upstairs neighbour drops a pair of red shorts from their balcony.

So I didn't have internet at home all day.

When Andrew got home he asked me what I did all day without internet.

"The same thing I do everyday with the internet," I told him.

He volunteered to fix the phone line again, by twisting the wires back together again. Who needs to solder? The chances our neighbour is going to drop another article of clothing that will land on our phone line is slim, right?

While Andrew did this, he got a dose of what I do all day long, with or without the internet. Rachel followed him around everywhere.

He went onto the scary balcony to find the problem. Rachel didn't want to go out there; she's no dummy--she knows scary when she sees it.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"I'm fixing the phone," he said.

"Oh." she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the phone," he said, while thinking, Didn't I just say that?

"Oh." she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the phone," he said, "What are you doing?"

"I"m standing up," she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the phone," he said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm standing up in the kitchen," she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the phone," he said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm standing up in the kitchen watching Daddy," she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm fixing the phone," he said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm standing up in the kitchen watching Daddy fix phone," she said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming back inside," he said, "Because I'm finished out here."

"Oh," she said and followed him from the kitchen to the toy room where he moved my desk out of the way so that he could access the hole in our wall where the phone line comes through (yup, it's a hole, and a great entrance for mosquitoes and ants and things), "What are you doing?"

I think you get the picture. The only thing different about my day with the internet, as opposed to a day without the internet, is that I can chat to Andrew when Rachel does little cute things, like using the broom as a "tripod" for her "camera," or when she does little annoying things, like throwing fits because I sang Pease Porridge when she only wanted porridge and not peas. And I can post what I write to the blog instead of saving it to my computer. It really doesn't change my day at all. My day is as repetitive as Rachel, herself, usually.

"Elephant, elephant, elephant, elephant, elephant, elephant!" she's saying right now.

"Yes, that's an elephant."

"Yup!"

And she's gone, only to come back a few minutes later.

"Help me up, help me up, help me up, help me up, help me up!"

"How do you ask nicely?"

"Please may I more holding you?"

Now she's up on my lap, holding me and the elephant she earned for staying dry x-amount of nights in a row, asking if we can all watch Winnie the Pooh together...again...that poor DVD has been watched so many times it's not even funny.

But at least I can chat to Andrew that his daughter put her blanket over her head to "hide" and then walked around. And then started clapping her hands, too, and said,

"Wear blanket-hat...and clap hands!"

She was so excited to be multitasking. Must be her father's daughter. They both love to multitask...anything...just to say they can multitask.

Maybe that will be my new answer for Rachel's never-ending interrogation about what I'm doing at any given moment in the day.

"What are you doing, mama? What are you doing?"

"I'm multitasking."

"Oh."

(For the record she just asked me what I was doing and I told her I was typing...

"No," she said, "You're using mouse!"

Oh, yup, I hadn't even noticed I'd switched).