Laura: Where do you get your naughtiness from?
Sophia: Daddy.
Later on...
Me: Okay. Keep it down, please. I need to make a phone call.
Laura: Get ready to scream, Thalia.
Thalia: Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!
Me: Thanks for that.
Laura: Hahahaha.
Me: Who was it again who passed on the naughty gene?
Laura: Daddy.
Sophia: Daddy!
Thalia: Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!...
See what I'm up against here?!
You know how kids love to play with cardboard boxes? Well, Sophia and Thalia decided it would be more fun to play with the styrofoam packing, the kind that easily breaks apart into tiny polystyrene pebbles that spread everywhere and cling statically to everything and takes forever to clean up thoroughly.
When I saw our living room in a state of emergency! Ooooooh! Not cool! Not at all cool!...
Thalia was banished to her playpen because she was attempting to eat the foam pebbles, and Sophia was sent to clean up her bedroom because we didn't want her to see how terribly annoyed we were...
The reason we didn't catch the disaster in time? Laura was doing laundry and I (I kid you not) was very intently reading an Internet news editorial about 100 plus cities in California officially banning polystyrene. (The coincidence did not strike me as funny at the time.)
Later in the evening, after the house had been cleaned, dinner had been served, and good tempers had been restored...
Sophia: Why were you so frustrated?
Laura: Because that was the worst mess I had ever seen in my life!
Sophia: That was the worst? It could have been worser. What if the bookshelf and the table fell down, too, and all the books...
Laura: Okay, Sophia, this is not a competition!...
P.S. I am still finding pieces to clean up two weeks later! Arrrgh!...
Several children sit in rapt attention in the first two rows of the church as I read to them the Christmas story during our Christmas Eve service. I speak enthusiastically as I pace to and fro with the book pages held open for them to see the colorful illustrations of the animals of Bethlehem gathering together on this special night long ago:
"...It's time! It's time!" the animals say to one another with great anticipation!
I suddenly feel a little kick on my shin. Ow. I must have been bumped accidentally by a kid in the front row. I ignore it and keep reading.
The animals sing out, "The One who made us has come to live with us!"
Ow. Another kick on the shin when I return to the left side of the room. Who is doing that? But I ignore it because I am really into my dramatic presentation...
"A Light to light up the whole world!"
Ow! This time it really hurt. I pause from my story to look down at the mischievous giggling imp who dares to kick me, the Christmas story reader, in front of the whole church, in the middle of this sacred time-honored tradition...
"Sophia!" I whisper with a withering look. "Stop kicking me!"
"Okay!" she whispers back.
"And they gazed in wonder at God's great gift!..."
After the service, a friend tells me how great it was to see Sophia kicking me. The moment made him feel a little better about his own parenting.
Well, at least someone was inspired this holy night...
Me: Sophia, why are you twirling around in a circle with a bowl of cereal!
S: I'm not spilling!
Me: Go eat at the table before you spill milk everywhere!...
She pouts all the way back to the table with her bowl of Chex cradled in her arm. I'm impressed, actually, that her dance was spill free.
My first conversation before coffee this morning:
S: Do you want Christmas music playing now or later?
Me: Uh, when I'm done making coffee I'll put Christmas music on.
S: That's what I meant.
Me: Okay.
S: What does meant mean?
Me: Meant means that's what you mean.
S: What does mean mean?
Me: Mean means that's what you're saying.
S: Mean means that's what I'm saying?
Me: Yes.
S: Oh, I see what you mean...
At least one of us does...
.
The quality of our conversation didn't get much better after my coffee...
Sophia was complaining the other day about a little boy at her school who was trying to kiss girls on the playground. She understood that his behavior was not appropriate. Laura encouraged her to ask him why he does that.
Well, she asked the boy why he tries to kiss the girls:
Boy: Because when I'm at school, I miss my mom, and kissing people makes me feel better.
Sophia: Well, you can't kiss people, but you can hug them.
Boy: I don't know who to hug.
Sophia: You can hug your good friend.
Then the little boy turned around and hugged her, haha...
S: My friend told me that when I'm ten I can have a boyfriend.
Laura: Ten is too young to have a boyfriend. Maybe when you're twenty-one when you're done with college.
S: No, my friend said when I'm ten I can have a boyfriend.
Laura: Well, Mommy and Daddy aren't going to let you have a boyfriend when you're ten.
S: I'll keep it a secret...
oh boy...
Sophia saw Thalia scribbling on Mommy's grocery list, so she asked if she could add a couple more items. Her list was a little cryptic, so I had it translated:
"A Balloon
Cupcakes
I demand them, please"
If I didn't know better, I'd think it's an extortion letter! Maybe I should get the FBI involved...
