Jenster's Musings

Friday, March 09, 2007

Make Her Stop, Please!

I love my daughter. I really do. She is always ready with a hug or a kiss and she tells me the things I like to hear like, "You're the best mom, ever," (which usually means she wants something, but hey, I take what I can get).

But the child is seriously driving me nuts. She walks in the door after school and I say, like any responsible parent would, "Hi Honey. How was school today?" And then it happens. She just starts talking and I can't keep up, probably because I'm not doing caffeine very much any more.

Here's what it's like:

School was really good today. Autumn and I are going to get beetles when we're old enough to drive and mine's going to be that sparkly blue color and I think it probably will be a convertible so I can drive to the shore with the top down which should make you happy because I'll have to put my hair up or else it will be whipping in my face and I won't be able to see when I'm driving and that's not a good thing and Autum's not sure what color she's going to get but it's going to have Tinkerbell everything in it because she really, really likes Tinkerbell and I think she might even be obsessed with Tinkerbell because in her room there's Tinkerbell pillows and Tinkerbell statues and Tinkerbell blankets and everything Tinkerbell and, well, yeah.

Notice the lack of punctuation? That's EXACTLY how she talks. But wait. She's just taking a breath. Let's see what she says next, okay?

The boys on the bus aren't very smart because they keep doing stupid things and the bus driver makes them sit in the front and all the girls get to sit in the back because, you know, girls rule, and when the boys were sitting in the back they got into these Mentos wars and I turned around to tell them to stop and someone threw one at me and it hit me right above my lip and it hurt and I told them they were acting like booties and I saw the Mentos on the floor and some of them were saying, "Hey, give that to me," and instead I stepped on it and crushed it and they were all like, "I can't believe you did that," and I was like, "Well I did so what are you going to do about it", which pffftttt, they're not going to do anything about it and besides they have to sit at the front of the bus now anyway because they can't act their age and OH MY GOSH I saw a picture of these shoes I want cause, yeah, they're so cool and they're green and they're Sketchers and do you know how much Sketchers are because I really like them but I know you're going to tell me to save my money and that reminds me I think Shelby and I are going to start a baby sitting service this summer but we have to take some classes to teach us how to be good babysitters and her church is going to have them at some time in the near future and is it okay if I go to it because I think it would be good for me and then I can start making money and saving for things like these shoes and books and movies and that sort of thing and OH I cried when Megan and I saw Bridge to Terabithia and I even knew what was going to happen because I read the book but I think the movie was actually better which is kinda weird because the books are always better and we WILL own that movie when it comes out on DVD even if I have to buy it which shouldn't be a problem because between my allowance and whatever money I make babysitting this summer will be plenty so, yeah.

As she sucks in air for the next round I grab my book and jump up from the chair, saying, "I'd love to hear more but I have to go to the bathroom. Get a snack and start on your homework." This usually works well because when I come back out she's either working on her homework or she didn't have homework and she's leaving to go play at so-and-so's house.

The other day she was home sick from school and the little angel shared her mogus with me. Only I got it worse. So I sat in the chair, shivering with chills and wishing with every fiber of my being I would just throw up and feel better already, staring at her with glazed eyes begging silently for her to please stop talking. Finally I said, "Katie, honey, dearest daughter of mine. Please, for all that you hold dear and sacred, PLEASE STOP. Between the fever and your rambling I'm pretty sure my ears are bleeding."

Blessedly she stopped. And how's this for sweet? I fell asleep in the chair and felt something on my legs. I looked down and she was covering me up with a little blanket.

It's really easy to think about how much I love and adore her when she's at school. But at 4:00 this afternoon I'll be steeling myself for the barrage that's about to hit me.


Mused by Jenster :: 11:01 AM :: 16 People musing:

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