Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth...

This morning I had made the kids grits for breakfast. I was cleaning up the kitchen when I caught sight of Beya, sitting properly in her chair (a rare occurrence) and playing with her hands, literally. Her little make-believe session was so intriguing I watched her quietly to see what the plot was. Apparently her bowl was "the house". The bowl has a wide overhanging edge and underneath was where her hands could take refuge. Now her hands were people, and the right hand was a girl and the left was a boy. They were fighting, you see, over who would be able to go into the "house." I got the impression that the boy hand was the bad hand and the girl hand was the good hand. The boy hand kept trying to oust the girl hand and the girl hand would say, "No! No swiping!" (dialogue courtesy of Dora of course) and the boy hand would steal the house. Girl hand would say "Get out of my house!" and some such things. Unfortunately there was no happy ending to this story. Boy hand killed girl hand and she lay lifeless on the table and boy hand continued eating. It was so strange and intriguing that I asked Beya what she was doing.
"The boy killed the girl." she informed me sadly.
"Which is the bad one, the boy or the girl?" I asked.
"The girl." said Beya, "She died." Still the right hand lay lifeless on the table quite literally like it was dead.
"Oh no!" I said. But a few minutes later she informed me the girl hand was all better.
Phew, it would have been hard to live with only one hand but seriously, I gotta teach that girl about happy endings, good prevailing over evil, and the stuff good stories are made of. We ought to teach left hand some manners.