"In a cat costume?"
"YES!" she screams.
"No," I say and bare my teeth.
Alla throws herself on the floor again. "I NEED A NEW PILLOW FOR MY BABIES!!!!"
"Stand back Kazam, we may need life vests," at this point I'm sheltering Kazam from the storm and I come back with more: "Alla, I haven't forgiven you for the time when you were two and climbed up on my sewing machine and peed," I walk into the next room pretending with all of my might that this discussion is over.
"She did?" Kazam doubles over and laughs himself silly on the couch. When he's able to speak again he asks, "Did you do that Alla?"
Suddenly Alla stops scrambling like an egg on the floor and we enter the eye of the storm. "Did I do that?"
"Yes, you did. And you can say sorry now."
We all exhale. The storm is subsiding. Blue skies are returning.
"Okay, let's sew. But you need white. I'll thread the machine. Kazam, do your homework."
Oh the joys of motherhood. Who knew that we would also become hurricane hunters?