My collection of the random, ridiculous, and silly things said around here. I know it’s been awhile, but these are some doozies!
Gracie has had a recurring line lately that has been cracking us up.
When Paul has the chance, he will tell them a story before bed. Awhile ago he started with the “Samuel story” so it’s now progressed into Saul and David. If you’ve read the account, there are some moments of… well, battle-ish type scenarios. Gracie apparently gets it pretty well.
Paul will be wrapped up in the story, telling it with great excitement while the girls listen spellbound -except for Mckayla, who hasn’t quite yet mastered the art of being spellbound- when a graphic detail will come along…
“… and the prophet Samuel chopped King Agag in pieces!”
And Gracie will interject, “Oh, that’s not good!”
It’s all I can do to not completely lose it on the spot.
What makes it so funny is that she keeps doing it! Even though there’s days or even weeks between opportunities. I can’t remember all of them, but you can imagine when she heard,
“… and they came in the next morning, and the god Dagon was on his face on the ground with his arms broken off!”
“Oh, that’s not good!”
“… and that stone landed right in Goliath’s forehead and he fell down dead!”
“Oh, that’s not good!”
Apparently, she has some reference for who’s side we’re on, because when Paul said, “And the army of Israel chased the Philistines and defeated them…”
She said, “Oh, that’s good!”
We can’t get enough; it is so hilarious! And she never is scared about it, just totally wrapped up in the story and without even thinking,
“Oh, that’s not good!”
On a semi-regular basis, Sophia finds a way to aggravate the normally patient and sweet Hope. Hope will come running to me for help, to which I normally reply, “Did you talk to Sophia about this?”
“No,” she’ll know what I’m about to say…
“Then don’t come talk to me about it.”
So one afternoon this week, Hope came in the kitchen:
“Mommy, Sophia keeps kicking me, and she won’t stop when I tell her to!”
Hope has a very soft and pleading way of saying “No.”
Sophia had been just following her around gently tapping her legs just to annoy her.
“Okay, Hope; this is what you do: Next time Sophia is bothering you, you just look at her and say, ‘Knock it off!’ Now you may not be mean, but you can be very firm and serious. Just say, ‘Sophia, knock it off!’ And Sophia,” I turned my attention to her, “if Hope tells you to knock it off, you stop right away.”
The girls left the kitchen. I wondered whether it would actually work or not.
Sure enough, in an hour or so, Hope came running to me, “Mommy,” she started in an exasperated voice, “I was laying on the floor and Sophia was running around and around me in circles; and I told her, “Kick if off!”
Gracie has a turtle that she carries around and often refers to as if it’s her kid. It would take pages and pages to write all the silly things that she has said about her turtle. It’s her general out when she’s in trouble or been corrected, “Yeah, my turtle does that, too.”
One day at lunch, Sophia had asked me if when they grew up and had kids if their kids would call them, “Mommy.” So sweet. Of course, I replied that, “Yes,” they would.
Gracie piped up, “My turtle calls me ‘Mister Letter!'”
That child’s brain operates in a completely original way.
On the nights that Paul is home, I supervise/give the girls their baths and showers, get them all ready for bed, then send them out to tell Daddy, “I’m ready for bed!” Once they’re all ready, I make a final appearance in the living room to make sure that they have indeed let him know that everyone is ready for bed, because by that time I am quite ready for those lights to go out and that door to close.
Several weeks ago, I came around the corner to the living room and saw Paul motion to me to be quiet and watch.
Sophia was sitting in a rocking chair and had all the girls sitting around her down on the floor.
I plopped down on the couch and quickly surmised that she was “teaching” a class.
“Now everybody,” she began in a very silly want to be grown-up/British voice. “This is our principal, Mr. Funsday.” She pointed to Paul. “And look who just joined us, his wife, Mrs. Funsday!” She pointed to me and then added, “Let’s all give her a rominal plause.”
All the girls began to clap wildly.
She went on to teach the silliest three minute class I have ever seen. It was definitely worth staying up a little later. = )