Posts
I was walking back from my sisters this afternoon thinking
about life in general and all of the things that I’m thankful for. Too many things to count came to mind, like a
home movie running through my mind, making me grin like an idiot. (People walking
by probably thought I was high or crazy or on medication).
You’d think those memories were all mushy, but most of them
were the ones who make me laugh out loud (which by the way doesn’t help with
the crazy grinning idiot walking down the street).
So to prove I’m not crazy I thought I would share some of
the things that came to my head...
Meghan with an O:
When my daughter Meghan was 2 and ½ she asked me to write
out her name on a piece of paper. Once
her name was on the paper she studied the paper intently and then the
conversation went something like this:
Meghan: Mommy, where is the o?
Me: There is no o in your name baby
Meghan: yes there is
Me: No honey, look there is no o in any of your name (I
wrote her middle and last name next to her first name on the paper)
Meghan: Yes there is!
Where is it?!? (She was such a stubborn toddler)
Me: No there isn’t (she didn’t get her stubborn nature from
her father)
Meghan: Yes there IS!
The last two lines were repeated a few dozen times, until
inevitably one of us gave in...I carefully wrote an o at the end of Meghan on
the paper.
So I said “there you go meghano”
She turns to me all vindicated and said “No mommy, it’s not
Meghano – it’s Meghan...with an o”
Her third birthday cake said “Happy 3rd birthday
Meghano”
Logan’s lack of
filter:
My son Logan is not just honest like other kids, but I swear
the kid was born without one of those filters that most people have that
prevents them from telling them the truth without any softening.
For instance, one time we were in the grocery store line up
and a gentleman was in front of us in line.
The man looked like the stereotypical biker, with long hair, tattoos and
earring, jean jacket and big black leather boots. My lovely, innocent, four year old son pipes
up “hello mister, my name is Logan, why do you have long hair, you look like a
girl, and why did you colour all over your arm, did your mom get mad? And what’s
that in your ear, you sure look funny” -
let me just say it’s a good thing that big burly biker had a good sense of
humour and Logan was so damn cute.
My best memory of Logan’s lack of filter was when I was
pregnant with my youngest son Finnegan. I was about 8 months pregnant and for a
lack of a better term – huge.
Logan came into the bathroom one morning when I was getting
ready for work, hesitated and then said...
“Mama? ...I’m not gonna tell you that you’re big and
fat...even if you are. ‘cause that’s not
nice”. He looked at me so proudly,
patted my tummy and strutted away like a hero.
I sat there for a minute not sure if I should laugh or
cry. Again, it’s a good thing that boy
is so damn cute.
Scott – the terrible
apologizer:
I love my husband and he is a great man and a good father,
and I am thankful for all of those things, but to be honest he SUCKS at
apologies.
Let me give you an example...
One Saturday afternoon we had gone out and done fun and exciting
stuff (if you consider grocery shopping an adventure) and we had just come
home. We were putting away the
groceries. Scott was in the kitchen and
I was putting toiletries away. I came
downstairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen just as Scott pulled open
the fridge.
Fridge connected with my funny bone and I yelped out in
pain. MY husband looks at me and instead
of saying what most people would l say (“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come
around the corner, are you ok?”) he states:
“Well I wouldn’t have hit you with the fridge door if you hadn’t
come around the corner and walked into it!”
Ummm....
I laugh about it now but I was a little irritated with him at
the time. It’s like the when you force a
kid to apologize for calling their sibling stupid and they something like “I’m
sorry you’re stupid”
Finnegan and the
chocolate syrup:
Finnegan is my youngest son and he makes me laugh all the
time, with his great dance moves, his monkey like cuddles and his evil
brain. Finnegan is one of those children
that figures things out quickly and who you could never fool by hiding an
object. Most babies/toddlers when you
took something out of sight, would quickly forget about that item and move
on. Not my son, he would wait until I
left the room, pull a chair over to wherever I had stashed said item and retrieve
it when nobody was looking.
It reminds me of a time that daddy was in charge (you know
by this very sentence it probably didn’t end well). I came home from work one afternoon, pulled
into our parking spot, glad to be home.
I got out of the van, put my key in the lock and swung open the
door. Standing in the doorway of the
kitchen was Finnegan, wearing a diaper, a giant ear to ear grin and chocolate
syrup. I don’t mean a little bit of
chocolate syrup, but an entire giant bottle of Nestle Quick chocolate syrup
poured out onto the floor, and then painted onto said toddler, in every crease
and every inch of skin. There were also
many chocolate foot prints in the kitchen, hallway and down the stairs (which
are carpeted) to the rec room.
Where was daddy through all of this you ask? He had fallen asleep. Needless to say daddy got rudely awakened by
me yelling his name in my “not happy” voice.
So you see why I must have looked like a crazy person
walking, thinking about the above memories, laughing, then frowning in turn.
I am thankful for many things, including my husband, my
children, the people in my life that make me who I am. I’m also thankful for having the kind of
sense of humour that keeps me laughing out loud and scaring unsuspecting passersby.
Happy thanksgiving world and thank you for giving me cause
to laugh.
Shan
