“What kind of cheese do I like?” Eden asked at dinner. “American or African-American?”
In case you’re wondering, it was the former.
FYI to all the pregnant ladies
“That’s not appropriate.” Eden said yesterday at the health food store.
She was pointing to a bottle of stretch mark cream that featured a seemingly nude pregnant woman resting on her side. The model’s arms were draped over her breasts and the picture was taken at such an angle that the focus was on her large bare stomach with everything else obscured. I’m sure the marketers were going for the sensuous beauty of pregnancy (especially if you bought their cream!) But that didn’t cut it with Eden, the self-assigned arbiter of all things appropriate.
Once home, as I put away the groceries, I overheard her shouting to Jack, “Sniff my bottom! Sniff my bottom!”
“Stop that!” I shouted.
“It’s appropriate, Mom! This is how dogs communicate.”
“But you are not a dog.” I said, heading for laundry room where Jack’s kennel is and the scene of this canine psychology clinic.
She met me half-way down the hall. “He had already sniffed it.” She said matter of factly.
So there you have it pregnant ladies:
Nude pictures, even those tastefully modest? No, never.
A dog smelling your nethers? Absolutely.
Today several fourth graders mistook Eden for a third grader. They were all amazed to learn that she is, in fact, a Kindergartner.
Paul recently measured the kids. Lydia, at 5’6 1/2″ continues to stretch up, having passed her Aunt Torey and is now gaining on me. Christopher is growing too, though he trails Lydia by a couple of inches. Eden at six and two months is 4’1″.
When Eden finished telling me about wowing the fourth graders I glanced at her in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were shining and there was a big smile on her face.
“How do you feel about that?” I asked
“Excited.” She quickly replied.
PDA
The little girl pictured below is sick and has been for a couple days and – God help us – nights. Tending a vomiting child is never a delight especially in the middle of the night, when you’ve already changed the sheets, been pooped on, splattered with vomit and awakened several times. Every time Eden awoke I ran to her side, stroked her head, cleaned up the mess, tucked her back in and then – per her request – slid in beside her to stay until she fell asleep. Once her breathing deepened I would creep back to the comfort of my own bed until the next awakening, of which there were many.
Both nights Paul has been up for most of the rounds but last night I let him sleep through a couple. This morning he woke first, made coffee and then woke me with a fresh cup in one of my treasured jadeite cups. I was clutching it to my chest, waiting for it to cool when Eden climbed into bed beside me, wafting a vile smell. I held it up high while she snuggled in beside me. Paul returned with his own mug and the paper.
Once I was fully awake I began to sip my coffee and took a good look at him. Despite knowing that he had showered the morning before he looked like it had been days, maybe weeks. I commented on his appearance and tried to make an algebraic equation out of his lack of sleep directly proportional to the greasiness of his hair.
“If h = hours…” but that’s as far as I could get. We both began to laugh and I fell into his arms.
“And now Daddy and Mama are going to do some kissing, Eden,” I warned. All our kids are embarrassed by any public displays of their parents’ affection.
“Oh no!” She said and turned her head away. “Why do you have to kiss so much?”
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for our kissing!” Paul and I said in unison.
“Other people don’t kiss as much as you do!”
“Who?” I demanded.
And then she named names.
“How do you know? You aren’t around them all the time?”
She conceded the point with her silence.
“Do you know who the first Top Banana was in our class?” Eden asked, referring to the title conferred upon the children in her class, usually near their birthdays, playing on the Curious George theme in place.
“Who?” I asked.
“Alex.”
Alex is a mischevious looking boy with blond hair and sparkling blue eyes who, despite appearances, is very sweet and, most importantly, Eden’s beloved.
“Mmmm…” I murmured and looked at her meaningfully.
“He was six…but now he’s six and a half.”
“Time flies.” I said.
“Do you know what actually flies instead of time?”
“What?” I asked.
“Jack.”
“How’s that?” I was really curious how she was going to explain this.
“Well, there’s Jack in the movie “Hook”; our dog, Jack; the Jack in Lydia’s class and TWO Jacks in my school. That name is just flying around everywhere.”
Of course she’s right.
Too soon she’ll know that I’m right too.
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