Driving through downtown Indianapolis yesterday afternoon on the way to Victory Field for the Indians baseball game:
Abby: “Hey, Grace, do you see that tall building?”
Grace: “What tall building?”
Abby: “The one with all the windows!”
(Remember, we’re driving through downtown…)
And Grace responds: “Oh, yeah! I see it!”
I came home the other night from a ride during which I’d taken a fairly nasty tumble off my bike. I walked in the door covered in dirt and sweat and bleeding from several places. (I’m pretty sure I looked better that I felt.)
Jack looked at me and said, “Dad, what happened to you?”
I quickly recapped the story in all the dramatic fashion I could muster. He looked at me thoughtfully and then said, “Well, at least you got right back up on the horse, right Dad?”
What I was thinking was that I was a few miles from home, in the middle of the woods with darkness falling all around me and no one else on the trail. I didn’t have much choice but to get back on the horse.
Instead, I said, “That’s right, Jack. You gotta get right back on the horse.”
So when we think they’re not listening, they probably are. More importantly, however, they’re watching.
Getting ready to leave the house the other day, Grace said, “Mom, you forgot to brush my hair!”
“That’s okay, honey,” Char responded. “We’re running late, so we’ll have to do it later.”
“Mom!” Grace hollered, “I’m gonna get cavities!”
Last week, while they were on Spring Break, Char piled up all the kids and took them to the YMCA to play in the morning. Then they went to an early showing of “Horton Hears a Who.” After the movie, they went out to lunch. When they came home, got out of the car and were walking up to the door, Lily said, “Mom, I’m bored.”
Char and I got married ten years ago in January, 1999. Lily was born almost two years later in September. So here’s the thing: If she was born seven-and-a-half years ago, where did this teenager come from?
This probably won’t translate very well into this arena, but I had to try. Here’s the scene:
I’m sitting at the kitchen table last night about 10:30p. Abby was having trouble sleeping after taking a late afternoon nap. So she’s lying in bed, humming a recognizable tune:
“Dun dun du-dun, dun du-dun, dun du-dun…”
“Abby,” says I, “go to sleep, honey.”
“Did you hear that sound?” she asks.
“Yes, honey, I heard it. Now go to sleep.”
“Do you know what that sound is, Daddy? That’s the sound Darth Vader makes! Dun dun du-dun, dun du-dun, dun du-dun…”
I laughed for four minutes.