Actually, she calls it Ella's Hotel. It's a little game she's been playing since last weekend when she was eagerly anticipating Jack's long awaited arrival home after being away for three weeks at Ukrainian camp in Ohio. I noticed as the day progressed that she seemed very busy - I knew something was up when I noticed her cleaning. CLEANING WITHOUT BEING ASKED.
Me: Wow, Ella - are you cleaning the house?
Ella: This is not a house. This is my hotel.
Me: Oh. How much do I have to pay to stay in your hotel?
Ella: Half a penny.
This went on for the rest of the afternoon. By dinnertime each room had a number taped to it, the piano bench had been transformed into a front desk and Ella was busily making Jack's bed. How long could this possibly last?
Friends of ours had given Jack a ride home from Ohio, so I left at the appointed time to collect him and all his grubby, cobwebby camp things. When we returned home, we were greeted at the door by this . . .
Ella was wearing John's jacket and tie with her hair pulled back in a professional looking way, waiting expectantly at her "front desk" to check in her new guest. We played along of course and then the kids hugged each other about five times, Ella giggling and Jack smiling and patting her head. The next day they were back to bickering as usual, but it was a nice moment.
The hotel has remained in business throughout the week - occasionally I am asked if I would like a drink and would I like to see the menu for the day. Ella gets bent out of shape when Jack moves her front desk so he can play the piano. The novelty is starting to wear off though - I have not seen any spontaneous cleaning or bed making for quite some time.
I just asked Ella if her hotel was open for business. She said she doesn't want to do her hotel anymore and that it's boring. It's too bad. I was hoping to get her to do some laundry today.
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