A Popala Entry

My dad has found a new career as a man-nanny (mananny?) for the children of some family friends. Normally, he only has a four year old girl from 10:30 to 3pm every day. For Spring Break, he also had her seven year old sister and began his day at 8am.

It's been charming to watch my dad learn Spanish with Dora, jot down recipes for flubber-ey goo and constantly search for the perfect flash cards, but I love the stories the best.

Thursday, the girls tried to pull Dad in on a game they play called "Popular Girls" (they say it more like "Popala Gulls").

"Ok, we're going to play like you are the President and we are your
daughters and we're sixteen and you just bought us new cell phones and new cars
and told us we get to be the boss."

"No. That's not gonna happen."

"All you gotta do is pretend like."

"We're not even pretending that. How about we make slushies again?"

Now there's a peek into my upbringing, I don't want to be a Popola Gull, but I love slushies.