The Recital, Mr. Pooty Pants, One Cracked Tooth and a Hypochondriac
Things have obviously been hopping at the Cannady house, hm?
Abby deciding to give us a story-telling recital last night. To set the stage, she was standing in the middle of the den wearing nothing but panties (clothing of choice for the moment, IF she chooses to wear anything at all). Imagine the southern accent (she has a strong one and a lisp because she is gap-toothed). She tells us to "Listen. I'm going to tell a story. I was running to Grandma's, no MaMa's and I was hurrying and hurrying and hurrying, but I was goin toooooooooo fast. I had to slow down and then I got to MaMa's and there was my new cat! The End" (This is a semi-autobiographical work as there is NO new cat). We applauded and then received an encore performance. It was lovely. And if I do say so myself, brilliant!
J.T. and I were sitting in the chair together reading The Yellow Boat (fascinating book that) when he, um, let's one fly. I let the first one slide. but the second time... I looked at him and said: "We're going to have to call you Mr. Pooty Pants!" Which, of course, cracked him up. We had to set the book aside until he could keep it together....boys like a good crass joke, don't they? Rob told him not to say it at school. We have to say that ALOT at our house! "Okay, that stays here. Can't say it at school, right?" And Rob's mother says (usually after she has called Rob's father an ugly name): "MaMa shouldn't have said that. That wasn't very nice. I won't say it again," almost daily.... so the "I won't say it again" part is obviously a futile promise.
Rob also cracked his tooth yesterday and will have to have a root canal. Thank God we have dental insurance but we still have to pay $500 up front and the insurance will cover 80% of the $1800 total costs. AND they can't do it until MONDAY! So Rob is drinking through a straw and eating soft foods only. He also gets 5 days worth of serious pain medicine. If I were a less kind person, I would use this to my advantage. Sigh, alas I am sweet and too kind and shall just pamper him until Monday.
Rob's mother (our much loved resident hypochondriac) calls to check on him and says: "I have a cracked tooth, too! And we need to be careful that you don't get an infection that goes to your bloodstream and kills you" (I think I'm paraphrasing here). Which freaked Rob out and made me laugh (not the killing you part, the I have one too part) because if you have had an ailment, she has had it too and it was much worse than yours! We love her dearly, she keeps us laughing and is very, very kind, but sometimes our mothers make us groan!
Just think, I will be doing and saying things to my grown children one day that will make them roll their eyes and say: "Mother!" Payback is so very sweet.