Madcap Adventures of The Bug & The Pea

In every writing class, conference and seminar I've attended...one piece of advice always comes to light, "Write What You Know." And so I shall. What I know is kids. Well, not all kids, but two specific ones. I'll call them The Bug and The Pea. You must promise me this - that you will never repeat to them what you have read in this journal of love and laughter. Repeating the antics you may henceforth read, will do nothing short of mortify The Bug and The Pea. (Who truly believe I live to embarrass them. "MOM! You are ALWAYS EMBARRASSING me!" Heaven only knows what a mortification I will become once they're teenagers...but I digress.)

I awoke to Superhero Cat Girl and Monkey Warrior Girl saving the world while Daddy made pancakes. The Pea donned a black leotard, a black skirt, a hooded "kitty cat" towel, and some threadbare tights. The Bug wore her pink monkey PJs, and carried a plastic backpack of "ammunition." They had both fashioned types of bow & arrows...or rather sling-shots out of hairbands. They were launching said hairbands from long sticks. I recognized one of the sticks as the bamboo cane from the bottom of a butterfly net (well, formerly our butterfly net). The other stick was the extended blue pole of a Swiffer - the kind you use to clean ceiling fans and blinds. Once Superhero Cat Girl or Monkey Warrior Girl descended upon an enemy, the sticks became swords instead of bows. Paranoid as I am, I told The Bug and The Pea to cease and desist. However, the exact terminology was, "Stop! Stop! You're gonna put an eye out!" And then, oh yes, I sat them down and told them a story. Not just any story. But a true story.
I met the McK's when they were on furlough from Bangladesh. They were one of the first missionary families I ever knew, and they seemed awfully mysterious. (Of course, I was 5 at the time, so most everyone seemed mysterious to me.) They had a little girl, J, who was my age. The McK's stayed in a white house beside our church. And sometimes on Sundays or Wednesdays, J and I would play in the yard surrounding the house. Outside of her beautiful red hair, the first thing I noticed about J were her eyes. One eye would follow you, darting here or there. But the other eye never moved, never. This was a very curious thing to me, but even as a youngster I knew it would be impolite to ask J why. My mom, realizing my curiosity, told me that J had a glass eye. (A GLASS eye?!) Apparently J and her brother were playing bows & arrows one afternoon, and a wayward arrow pierced her eye.
Upon hearing this story, The Bug and The Pea relinquished their sticks--as quickly as they could with their jaws still on the floor. Thankfully, pancakes were soon finished and consumed (with a ginormous amount of butter and syrup). Rarely deterred, Superhero Cat Girl and Monkey Warrior Girl morphed into Special Agent Spies. They grabbed scotch tape and a notepad and a pencil. The Bug scrawled several important signs and taped them to the wall. ("apslootly NO prents aloud here" and other frightful warnings.) The Pea built a blanket fort for quick cover. The two were as stealthy as elephants plodding back and forth upstairs.
The husband and I gobbled up the rest of the pancakes. We began plotting our own special agent mission...one that would involve beach towels, sun tan lotion, and two pint-sized super heroes...