The other night, Payne was expressing some reluctance regarding eating his vegetables. I suddenly remembered a previous incident and piped in with “Hey! Remember when you were a pea vacuum? Show me how you can suck up your peas again!”
I reveled in my victory.
And then realized I had just pulled a “Ralphie’s Mom”.
I rolled out of bed this morning and walked into the family room (also known as towards the button on the coffee machine) only to find this:
I love them.
that Stella is the brains of the operation:
“I’mdead I’mdead I’mdead.”
There might be a bit of an attitude here. Heh heh.
Genevieve speaks very well I believe, but she has a few linguistic quirks that I sort of want to go away, um, never.
She prefers “he” to “him”.
Example: “I want my Payne! Let’s go see he!”.
And the other error of absolute cuteness is “we’re” instead of “our”.
Example: “You can’t have dat! Dat’s we’res!”
Indignation + grammatical error = the cute equivalent of a cavorting baby panda on tape. Yep.
-After faithfully assisting me in shopping for some housewares, Payne secured the merchandise:
-The other night at dinner, Payne asked me “Mommy? What do you know about God?”. Big question. I very carefully provided an answer. He digested for a moment, and after a thoughtful pause, asked “Mommy? How do nunchucks work?”.
Have you ever wondered how the specific idiosyncrasies of your family unit will translate once your children are grown and trying to push them onto spouses?
This idea never fails to amuse and slightly horrify me.
– We don’t make beds. I just don’t care. Payne’s wife is going to throw a shoe at me from across the Thanksgiving dinner table over this. I just know it.
– Speaking of shoes, we don’t put them away. I don’t really know how this one was born, but there are little shoe bombs planted all over the house. The kids each have about 4 pairs of shoes, so we grab a new pair out of the closet each day until we run out, and then I go do a house wide shoe round up and seriously end up putting away 15 pairs of shoes at once. We trip a lot between shoe round ups. I imagine my future daughter and son in law commiserating “It’s like they don’t even SEE their damn shoes! She never taught them to put away their shoes! How freaking lazy can you be?!”.
– I don’t cook everything well, but I have mastered basic American “Italian” foods. I make an awesome pasta sauce, lasagna, or meat ball. Therefore, those items NEVER EVER come from a jar or Stouffers package around here. I can just see my grown children curling their lips at the spaghetti with Prego being served to them by their beloveds, and hear the ensuing “I have no interest in being an exact replica of your Mom!” fight. Ha.
– And finally, we live like cavemen.
In semidarkness. Our house is a little on the darker side anyway, and then we have blinds and solar screens on the windows. We own no lamps. We also tend to only turn on one overhead light out of three or so that are available. I find it calming and too much light gives Dan headaches. So yeah. That won’t be annoying at all to the normal human that marries Genevieve and suddenly discovers that she lives like a vampire behind closed doors. I envision him at our place for Christmas, passive aggressively flipping (and then flipping the bird at) switches as he walks through the house.
I swear the fights of the first year of marriage largely revolve around merging two different brands of family crazy into a new and exciting flavor of weird. Good times!
– vibrating kid
– taggie blankets
-rocket ship blanket
-baggies of Cheerios
-chick fil a books
-children on the coffee table
-diaper changing supplies
That about covers it.