Hanna had a play date yesterday afternoon at her friend Kate’s house. Kate is a friend by geography based on proximity to our house and the likelihood of getting a “yes” from both sets of parents for an impromptu play-date after school with no co-ordinating ahead of time. They beg everyday in the school parking lot, buses trying to weave their way through the groups of parents and kids who throw all logic by the wayside and stand in the centre of busy traffic to get five minutes of adult time before racing home to work on homework and prepare dinner.

We agreed to drop Hanna at Kate’s house for one hour and pick her up at 5pm for supper. The girls disappeared into the backyard before I was able to unbuckle my own seatbelt (yes, I drove three houses away, I have a baby and therefore am excused from making practical decisions like walking).

When we picked Hanna up, she said, “Kate really got the dickens.” And I wondered then as I am wondering now, what are “dickens?” Can you quantify “dickens” as in, she got seven “dickens?”

Apparently, Kate’s dickens came from running into the woods to hide on her mother and when she was found, Kate yelled, “One day, you’ll be sorry!”

Could it be Charles Dickens she was going to get? Was her punishment a reading from Bleak House? That was my punishment in fourth year British Lit.