This past Sunday morning was a busy morning. At one point, while I was downstairs bustling around preparing for the day, Ella made her way upstairs into her bedroom to ‘get herself ready for church.’ A few minutes later she came back down the stairs completely naked from head to toe, except for wearing a little backpack stuffed full of toys, and announced in a cheerful voice, “I’m ready, guys!” For my own amusement, I couldn’t help but make a few quips about modesty, even though the jokes were lost on all the kids.
Later the same day, after changing her diaper and getting her ready for bed, I was tidying things up in the kids’ room and I must have left the diaper-rash cream (which clearly reads “for external use only: do not get into eyes”) within her reach. Thankfully she’s in a phase where she verbalized the details of what she’s doing as she’s doing it. Her raspy voice alerted me with her absent-minded commentary, “I’m putting Desitin in my eye.” Obviously alarmed, I glanced over just as she was carefully lifting a massive, gooey, white glob of Desitin toward her eye. She was even opening her eyes wide, determined, it seemed, to make sure it got right onto the eye ball. Luckily I was able to dive across the room and stop her mid-application. “No, mama,” she growled, disgruntled that I’d interrupted her fun.
A few days back Justin cut both boys’ hair. They always look so dapper with freshly cropped hair. The day after his haircut, I was admiring how handsome my middle boy, Josh, was, and I said, “You look great with that haircut, buddy. So handsome.” Josh smiled humbly and said, “I know!” Amused, I asked him, “Can you think of a slightly less proud way to respond to someone saying you look good?” Josh contemplated this for a moment and then confidently offered a new response to the compliment: “Thank you, I know!’”