Stinkers and Floaters

Well we've had a couple of landmark events recently. Chris and I both started noticing that after trips to the park, Habtamu was smelling less and less like a breath of fresh air and more like a small caribou. So Chris ran out to Walgreens and picked up my son's first stick of deodorant, and I got to show him how to use it. One stroke down, One stroke up. No, you don't have to start at your elbow and make contact all the way to your lowest rib. He figured out on his own that applying a second coat of deodorant without taking a shower gets nasty. Chris told him that it was 'unscented' but both he and his sister spent a ridiculous amount of time with their noses in his pits making sure.

The other milestone wasn't so jovial. The kids go to a mid-week childrens' church on Wednesdays. They are in separate classes which makes for interesting revelations when I go to pick them up. H's class is pretty academic and so he often appears proudly after class with a completed word-find puzzle or worksheet and a fancy pencil. Yordi, however, is apparently in the "Knick-knacks for Jesus" class and usually comes out hunched over with both arms loaded carrying the evenings projects and prizes. I'm kind of surprised they didn't decorate backpacks the first week. That would have been a good idea. Anyway, this week Yordi came out with 2 small goody bags, a craft that somehow incorporated a working flashlight, a balloon, and a 10 inch pumpkin. Add her jacket and Bible into the mix and you can see why a glittery backpack might have been appropriate. Not surprisingly, Habtamu did not rush in and help her carry anything. I offered to hold the balloon but she didn't think that was funny, so I ended up muling about half the payload. Habtamu kept his jealousy in check until we got out to the car. After taking inventory of her goody bags, he couldn't hold it in any longer and ended up jumping out of the car and running straight to the house as soon as I pulled into the garage. Couldn't blame him really... she got a flashlight and didn't even have to memorize anything. So with H out of the picture Yordi stumbles out of the car with her her half of the loot (I've got the rest,) waddles to the backdoor, reachs for the handle, and lets go of the string.

Then the earth shattered under the weight of the largest tears and tormented cries of a girl who just lost her first balloon.

Sorry honey, usually daddy's make that mistake with their first child, but your daddy's new at this and didn't even think about tying it to your wrist. I'll remember next time, I promise.

1 comment:

Katherine said...

I can teach you the 'balloon wrist tie' technique. We lost our first balloons when they were babies and easily distracted by a bendy straw.