Girl, Interrupted

Since the day my eldest daughter learned to form words, she has had a lot to say. It used to be easier for her to give full details of her day, and easier for me to give full attention to those plentiful details. That was when Sam was a baby and Abbie was in Kindergarten. With the addition of children, chores, homework, and activities, poor Abbie does not get the talk time she desperately desires.

She's been trying to have a sense of humor about it lately, which is nice, but there are times like this morning when she just doesn't have the patience:

A: "You know what I really wish?"
Mom: I look at her with raised eyebrows --as if to say, "what?"
A: "You know what I wish for?"
Millie: "Sometimes i have very bad dreams. Mom, sometimes I have bad dreams!"
Mom: "Oh really? I'm sorry about that." I make eye contact with Abbie.
Abbie: with a deep breath, "So, anyway..."
Mom: I hear Sam upstairs making his zoom and crash sound effects. The timer for being dressed in his Sunday best has already gone off. I yell, "Samuel?" but look at Abbie with a "Go ahead."
A: "I'll never be able to tell you what I wish."
Mom: "I was listening, I just had to call to Sam before you got started."
A: "I thought I already was."
Mom: with a smile, "I'm sorry, it's just tricky getting everybody ready and eating while having a conversation, you know?"
A: somewhat melodramatic, "It's hard having a conversation anytime around here."
Mom: I realize that she's right, but for some reason it strikes me as funny. I turn around so she won't see me laughing.
A: she notices anyway, "M-o-o-o-m (several syllables and pitches long) what's so funny?"
Millie: "There are some really crazy monsters like the Loch Ness Monster in Scooby Doo."
A&Mom: our eyes meet. Both of us start to laugh.

What else is there to do?