Candy, Candy, Candy
In our house we reserve our Monday nights for what is referred to in my religion as Family Home Evening. You can probably guess the general idea of what this entails by the name, but for us of the clan of the 6th son of Win we like to shake things up a bit.
Every Monday we take a few moments to vocalize what we are feeling. These tidbits into our lives are called the 'minutes' and are written into a little notebook I bought for this particular reason.
During the minutes you can say anything you want without worry of repercussions from siblings or generally parents (we have yet to have a child try to push this). Indeed I have graciously told my husband that such and such a behavior of his was driving me nuts (he's allowed himself the same freedom of speech).
Usually we get sweet little gems like from Iyawin--
Me: Do you want to say anything?
Him: NO!
This last Monday however my little girl cracked me up.
"We went to a parade and they threw lots and lots of candy and I got the most. I'm like the champion candy catcher."
This is especially humorous to me because of the extent of the understatement. They did throw candy at this parade. In fact they threw so much that the kids stopped picking it up.
Let me repeat that:
The children got bored of catching candy.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't believe my ears.
I tried coaxing:
"Look! There's some more over there."
It was to far away, or not the kind they liked. There was candy lying in the streets like scraps of garbage.
"I thought we'd taught them better than this." I said to Ralexwin.
I waddled into the street dragging the two year old behind me. He picked up one Tootsie Roll and ran back to his dad.
My daughter was the only one with the foresight to see what extra candy meant. She was indiscriminate and upon seeing that her brothers had not cleared out their section of the parade route she left her friends down the way and came to 'clean up.'
The boys sat apathetically watching.
"I think something might be wrong." I tried again, "do you suppose we've got defective models?"
Nothing worked, and by the end of the parade all they were doing (as their sister attacked her Halloween sized cache) was complain about being thirsty.
So indeed she was the champion candy catcher and has the candy to show for it. Have we asked her to share? You may be wondering. No way. That girl earned every gram of sugar.
Every Monday we take a few moments to vocalize what we are feeling. These tidbits into our lives are called the 'minutes' and are written into a little notebook I bought for this particular reason.
During the minutes you can say anything you want without worry of repercussions from siblings or generally parents (we have yet to have a child try to push this). Indeed I have graciously told my husband that such and such a behavior of his was driving me nuts (he's allowed himself the same freedom of speech).
Usually we get sweet little gems like from Iyawin--
Me: Do you want to say anything?
Him: NO!
This last Monday however my little girl cracked me up.
"We went to a parade and they threw lots and lots of candy and I got the most. I'm like the champion candy catcher."
This is especially humorous to me because of the extent of the understatement. They did throw candy at this parade. In fact they threw so much that the kids stopped picking it up.
Let me repeat that:
The children got bored of catching candy.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I couldn't believe my ears.
I tried coaxing:
"Look! There's some more over there."
It was to far away, or not the kind they liked. There was candy lying in the streets like scraps of garbage.
"I thought we'd taught them better than this." I said to Ralexwin.
I waddled into the street dragging the two year old behind me. He picked up one Tootsie Roll and ran back to his dad.
My daughter was the only one with the foresight to see what extra candy meant. She was indiscriminate and upon seeing that her brothers had not cleared out their section of the parade route she left her friends down the way and came to 'clean up.'
The boys sat apathetically watching.
"I think something might be wrong." I tried again, "do you suppose we've got defective models?"
Nothing worked, and by the end of the parade all they were doing (as their sister attacked her Halloween sized cache) was complain about being thirsty.
So indeed she was the champion candy catcher and has the candy to show for it. Have we asked her to share? You may be wondering. No way. That girl earned every gram of sugar.
Comments