beast: thy name is "miky"
My youngest one is 2 years and 3 months; 2 1/4 years old. She is very vocal and knows many words. But as any parent of a two year old knows, the one word that is above all others . . . is NO. It's only two letters. one consonant and a vowel, yet it has power. Hey I use it all the time. Some mornings my kids get up and before any words are spoken, out of instinct, I just yell NO in my best parent voice.
Well my little angel has decided that she no longer wants to go by her given name, Mikaela. She wants to be known as "miky" (mickey). She let's us know it too. "me miky" she tells us if we go astray.
OK, now let me set the scene. We are visiting a church near our soon to be new house (more later). As proper parents who attend church regularly, we sit in the back row so as to make a quick and quite exit if one of our . . . let's just go with kids, interrupts. All is well so far. Hymns, announcements, prayer, another hymn. We are almost to the point in the service where the young kids leave for "children's church" and all parents exhale. Some parents are giving high-5's, others wave their fist and do the "whoop whoop" thing. "My kids were quiet today!" In reformed churches, parents just nod with pride at anyone they make eye contact with. My son asks Mikaela if she wants a pen to draw on paper. Very quietly, almost in a wispher, she says "me miky". If my tale ended here you would think that I had perfect offspring and also wondered why am I telling this. Of course, David just has to say "no, you are Mikaela". With a voice of a blasphemer conjuring all the demons from hell she yells out "NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, ME MIKY"
My wife and I talk about CPR a lot, what with her being a nurse and all, and I'm thankful for the training as I attempt to resuscitate the elderly woman in front of us. At this particular church, poking someone with the business end of one's walker must be considered a "thank-you".
I have heard of audio archeologists who attempt to extract sounds from the porous wood in buildings. If it is ever perfected and one day someone comes across this little ditty; I hope they are young and do not eat many potato chips.
For now . . .
Well my little angel has decided that she no longer wants to go by her given name, Mikaela. She wants to be known as "miky" (mickey). She let's us know it too. "me miky" she tells us if we go astray.
OK, now let me set the scene. We are visiting a church near our soon to be new house (more later). As proper parents who attend church regularly, we sit in the back row so as to make a quick and quite exit if one of our . . . let's just go with kids, interrupts. All is well so far. Hymns, announcements, prayer, another hymn. We are almost to the point in the service where the young kids leave for "children's church" and all parents exhale. Some parents are giving high-5's, others wave their fist and do the "whoop whoop" thing. "My kids were quiet today!" In reformed churches, parents just nod with pride at anyone they make eye contact with. My son asks Mikaela if she wants a pen to draw on paper. Very quietly, almost in a wispher, she says "me miky". If my tale ended here you would think that I had perfect offspring and also wondered why am I telling this. Of course, David just has to say "no, you are Mikaela". With a voice of a blasphemer conjuring all the demons from hell she yells out "NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, ME MIKY"
My wife and I talk about CPR a lot, what with her being a nurse and all, and I'm thankful for the training as I attempt to resuscitate the elderly woman in front of us. At this particular church, poking someone with the business end of one's walker must be considered a "thank-you".
I have heard of audio archeologists who attempt to extract sounds from the porous wood in buildings. If it is ever perfected and one day someone comes across this little ditty; I hope they are young and do not eat many potato chips.
For now . . .
posted by Tgears at 11:55 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home