We have a terrible case of the okay buts around here. No, I'm not talking about people's backsides or cigarette stubs. I'm talking about my almost five year old.
"Avery, can you quickly grab me that basket?"
"Before what?"
"Just grab it! Quick!"
"Okay, but, Mom, when you were little, did you ever do this?" (Twirls around on one foot and whacks arm into wall.)
"Avery! Please!"
"Ok. (long pause.) What am I supposed to get?"
"Avery, can you please grab me the wipes?"
"Okay, but, Mom, what if a robber came into the house?"
"Daddy will get them."
"But what if he isn't home? Hey, Mom, did a robber ever come into your house when you were little?"
"Avery, what did I ask you to do?"
"Um, I don't remember."
"Hey, Avery, please go clean up your room so we can eat."
"Okay, but, Mom! How do we get into the Little People's world?"
"I don't know, Avery. Please go clean your room."
"Okay, but Mom. If you go like this and put your hands on the floor and your feet in the air, are you an upside down person?"
"I suppose, but PLEASE go clean your room!"
"Okay, but..."
"NOW."
"Okay..."
Chet asked me yesterday if I talked a lot when I was that age. I told him no. He wondered aloud where she got that from, the constant talking. I asked him if he was serious. He said yes. I howled. (If you don't know Chet, he has the gift of gab.) Then I described his family tree for him, pointing out all the people who like to talk. He smiled and walked away.
One thing Avery did inherit from me is the trait to leave things behind. My dad called me Laura-Leave-a-Lot when I was a kid, and in fact, he still might. I left my things all over the house, then couldn't find them when I needed them. Such was the case with Avery and the hair brushes I bought.
For whatever reason, hair brushes seem to be a favorite among the household ghosts as they are constantly disappearing. I went out to the store one day and bought TWO hairbrushes and ONE comb. I made it very clear to anyone who was listening that these were not to leave the bathroom. Apparently no one was listening.
It was Christmas morning and we were in a mad rush to get to church on time. Avery's hair was a rats nest as usual and all three hair combing utensils were missing from the bathroom. I called for Avery and asked where the brushes went. Of course, she didn't know but set out to find them. She came back empty handed.
"I can't find them, Mom."
"Well, what am I supposed to brush my hair with and your hair with?"
"Um... I don't know. Here, use this!" She handed me a fork.
"No, thanks, Avery, I'm not a mermaid. Find me a brush, please."
She didn't find one and I wore my hair in a ponytail to church. I curled her hair into ringlets hoping no one would notice the snarls.
But good news! I found a comb later that day in between the couch cushions. And Avery got a brush for Christmas from her kummi's. So peace has restored here on the homefront.
"Avery, can you quickly grab me that basket?"
"Before what?"
"Just grab it! Quick!"
"Okay, but, Mom, when you were little, did you ever do this?" (Twirls around on one foot and whacks arm into wall.)
"Avery! Please!"
"Ok. (long pause.) What am I supposed to get?"
"Avery, can you please grab me the wipes?"
"Okay, but, Mom, what if a robber came into the house?"
"Daddy will get them."
"But what if he isn't home? Hey, Mom, did a robber ever come into your house when you were little?"
"Avery, what did I ask you to do?"
"Um, I don't remember."
"Hey, Avery, please go clean up your room so we can eat."
"Okay, but, Mom! How do we get into the Little People's world?"
"I don't know, Avery. Please go clean your room."
"Okay, but Mom. If you go like this and put your hands on the floor and your feet in the air, are you an upside down person?"
"I suppose, but PLEASE go clean your room!"
"Okay, but..."
"NOW."
"Okay..."
Chet asked me yesterday if I talked a lot when I was that age. I told him no. He wondered aloud where she got that from, the constant talking. I asked him if he was serious. He said yes. I howled. (If you don't know Chet, he has the gift of gab.) Then I described his family tree for him, pointing out all the people who like to talk. He smiled and walked away.
One thing Avery did inherit from me is the trait to leave things behind. My dad called me Laura-Leave-a-Lot when I was a kid, and in fact, he still might. I left my things all over the house, then couldn't find them when I needed them. Such was the case with Avery and the hair brushes I bought.
For whatever reason, hair brushes seem to be a favorite among the household ghosts as they are constantly disappearing. I went out to the store one day and bought TWO hairbrushes and ONE comb. I made it very clear to anyone who was listening that these were not to leave the bathroom. Apparently no one was listening.
It was Christmas morning and we were in a mad rush to get to church on time. Avery's hair was a rats nest as usual and all three hair combing utensils were missing from the bathroom. I called for Avery and asked where the brushes went. Of course, she didn't know but set out to find them. She came back empty handed.
"I can't find them, Mom."
"Well, what am I supposed to brush my hair with and your hair with?"
"Um... I don't know. Here, use this!" She handed me a fork.
"No, thanks, Avery, I'm not a mermaid. Find me a brush, please."
She didn't find one and I wore my hair in a ponytail to church. I curled her hair into ringlets hoping no one would notice the snarls.
But good news! I found a comb later that day in between the couch cushions. And Avery got a brush for Christmas from her kummi's. So peace has restored here on the homefront.
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