The kids offer up so much comedic material in any given day that I decided to save it up and share it here, labelled Kid-isms, because no adult is even half as hilarious as a child.
After Gary warned one child, who had gotten a finger caught in the slats of a park bench, not to put their fingers “where they don’t belong”, another one of the kids piped up, “Yeah, like in your butt.”
Gary accidentally ran over the curb backing out of a tight parking space, and Sunflower called out from the backseat, “Daddy, don’t you remember how to drive?”
Sunflower (in the car): “Daddy, where are we going?”
Gary (playing with her): “To Timbuktu.”
Sunflower (without missing a beat): “But I love Timbukthree!”
We were all playing, running around, and the kids like to jokingly spank their daddy on the behind, then run away laughing so he can chase them. When Bear wasn’t fast enough and Gary caught him and was preparing to tickle him, Bear protested, “But I was just giving you a high-five on your butt!”
Some moments, all the chaos and bullshit and lies and unnecessary drama fade away, and last night was one of those, an evening that sent me to bed with a happy smile on my face. Everyone piled up for Gary to read some of the kids’ new books, and Sunflower grabbed her blanket and curled up on my chest while I snuggled against Gary, with Bear and Wolverine stuck to their daddy’s side like glue. Gary read to them in his own unique fashion, making up sentences and sometimes entire story lines, and the kids laugh and tell him, “That’s not in the book!”, which is code speak for “Keep doing that!” It was a moment where all was right in the world, everyone was comfy and content, and everything else was where it belonged: out of our minds, out of our lives.
Right now Gary is outside burning trash, and even though the kids have new books and new toys scattered throughout the house, they wanted nothing more than to be outside with him, no matter what he was doing, and that says a lot, doesn’t it? Burning trash with their daddy is right where they want to be, simply because that’s where Gary is.
We’re going to decorate a mini Christmas tree this afternoon, fashioned from a large pine cone (now painted gold) that we found along the bike trail a few weeks ago. I’ve already burned my fingers a few times with the hot glue gun, so later I will be admiring our masterpiece with my fingers swathed in gauze and burn cream, but a little glitter should render the bandages festive. Voila!