Rosa’s Logic

An artist’s (really Rosa’s friend Bathsheba) sketch of Rosa

“Dad! Rosa just told me you said I was gross.”

“What!” Exclaimed George, who at that moment was busy reading the Sunday Sandpiper Daily sitting in his favourite chair on the balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. “I never said any such thing.”

Timmy had walked up to his father and stood next to him looking for an explanation. “Yes, she said because I was listening to rap music, I was gross.”

George looked at his son intently and then burst out laughing. “I said no such thing. This morning Rosa told me you were listening to rap music and I told her it wasn’t what I liked listening to and that was it.” He paused for a minute considering if he really wanted to interrupt his Sunday afternoon with another venture into Rosa’s drama land, but eventually felt he had no alternative. He felt his good name was being impugned. “Where is Rosa?” he asked.

“In her room,” replied Timmy adding, “do you want me to get her.?”

“No, I’ll get her.” George was afraid if Timmy went into her room she would add more drama to the current chaos she had already created. George groaned as he got up from his chair, folding the newspaper and went back into the nest to knock on Rosa’s door. It was open.

“Hi daddy!” she replied pouncing off the bed and right into his wings hoping that anything she may have said which caused him to come into her room, would be minimised. George put her down and grabbed her wing. He led her out to the balcony where Timmy had sat down in his father’s chair. He got up as soon as he heard his father clear his throat.

“So young lady,” George began standing between her and her brother. “What’s this I hear about you telling Timmy I thought he was gross.”

“Well daddy,” began Rosa shooting a quick glance over at her brother. “You told me that not liking something and being gross are the same thing.”

“No, I never did.”

Rosa paused for a second. “Well maybe Elizabeth did then.”

“No, I didn’t!” replied Elisabeth who had just walked into the nest after a walk along the beach with Jeremey, who she kept at a wing’s distance. Rosa rocked on her legs for a second trying to figure out the best way for her to proceed.

“Well Daddy,” she continued, “I thought that not liking something is the same as gross.”

“But young lady you didn’t say that the music he was listening to was gross, you told Timmy that he was gross.”

Rosa thought for a second. She glanced at Elizabeth to see if she could get some help from her tutor, but Elizabeth wasn’t having any of it. “Oh!” she finally said looking down at the floor. There was silence. No one was going to continue until she had explained herself. But that was something Rosa hated to do. “But I thought not liking something and being gross is the same.”

“No, it isn’t!” replied George and Elizabeth at the same time. Rosa knew she was trapped. There was no way out of the mess of her own making, unless she did the honourable thing and apologise to her brother. She remained looking down at the floor, rocking back and forth on her feet.

“Sorry,” she finally whispered, hoping that would be enough, but it wasn’t.

“What are you sorry for?” asked George making her a little more uneasy.

“I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing.”

“If?” asked Elizabeth.

Rosa huffed. It was bad enough for her father to corner her, but Elizabeth, now that was something else. She thought a little longer but there was no way she could extract herself from the situation,” sorry I said the wrong thing.”

George looked at Rosa who was still looking down at floor and pointed to Timmy. “Look at your brother and apologise,” which she eventually did.

After that was done and there was a little calm, Elizabeth turned and walked into the kitchen but stopped and turned back. “Rosa, your mother and I are going to do some meditation, would you like to join us?”

Rosa blew her aunt a raspberry. George laughed, Timmy giggled and Elizabeth not expecting Rosa to join them, turned and continued her walk. “What was that for?” asked George.

“I don’t want to be a human pretzel.”

Good point thought George sitting back in the chair and unfolding his newspaper. “By the way Timmy, what was the rap song you were listening to.”

“Dad I was reading on the internet about Ben Shapiro and he was in a rap song by Tom Mac Donald and I thought it was fun. Maybe you should listen to it.”

“Ben Shapiro?” George was stunned, “The Ben Shapiro the conservative reporter?”

“Yes Dad. Would you like me to play it for you?”

George had to think quickly, “yes ok,” he was more curious than anything else. Timmy disappeared quickly into the nest and before Rosa could create anymore chaos, he returned with his iPhone and proceeded to play the song. George was shocked. He listened for a minute or two before asking Timmy to turn it off.

“Isn’t that gross Daddy?” George was about to agree, but then bit his tongue before he walked into another trap set by his youngest daughter.

“It’s not what I would call music Rosa. But it’s not gross and Timmy certainly is not gross either.” Rosa turned away from her father and Timmy and began her walk back into the nest. “Where are you going young lady?” George asked amused by her reaction.

“I’m going to see if Mummy and Elisabeth are still doing their pretzel stuff.” And with that she disappeared indoors. George picked up his paper and began to read again. Timmy stood there for a moment wondering if he should walk out on to the beach and look for his friend Max. Finally, after thanking his father, he flew down to the beach and began to walk towards Max’s nest.

George lowered his newspaper and looked to make sure he was alone. ‘Actually, you know Rosa,’ he whispered to himself, ‘that was pretty gross. How could Ben Shapiro possibly find anything in common with that so called musician. My, I’ve changed my opinion about him.’

“About whom Daddy?” he heard Rosa say as she walked back outside. George froze for a second.

“I was talking about something I just read in the paper.” Rosa knew better and looked at her father intently.

“You agree with me then don’t you Daddy. The music is gross.”

“Well,” began George needing to get out of this as diplomatically as possible. “What happened to your yoga?”

“Daddy,” Rosa said putting her wings on her hips, “Elizabeth asked me to close my eyes and imagine a strawberry and then to describe it to someone who was blind. So, I told her I would tell the person it was red, then she stopped me and said but a blind person doesn’t know what red is.” And with that she stuck her tongue out and made a horrible sound. “That’s what I told her and she asked me to leave. Now isn’t that gross. She asked me to leave the room in my nest. Elizabeth is gross.”

George smiled, he couldn’t object. He picked up the newspaper and Rosa walked back into her room to play with one of her stuffed dogs.