Monday, November 21, 2011

♫ Twenny-fowah-sebben, watchin' ovewr you! ♪

We've been trying to teach the kids that, when we're in conversation with other adults, they need to address us by name and ask, "Can I have your attention?" rather than chanting the desired adult's name ad nauseum until said adult responds.  (Usually with an aggravated, "What?!")

I told you that to tell you this story.

Hubby was telling me about his morning commute up to work and the twins' preschool today, and I laughed so hard I triggered a huge coughing fit (no doubt, not helped by my Sonic pumpkin pie milkshake *sob*)

The Fries are singing along with their Pandamania cd from this summer's VBS.  It's one of their favorite songs, "God is Watching Over You."

Medium Fry:  Daddy, God is watching over you!

Hubby:  I know that.

Medium:  How do you know?

Hubby:  God wants to protect us.

Medium:  God is watching over me?

Hubby:  Yes, He's watching over you and protecting you, too.

Medium: How do you know?

Hubby:  Well, because He protects you, that's probably why you came to live with us.  It was probably His idea.

Medium:  His idea?

Hubby:  Yeah.

Medium:  I wanna ask Him.

Hubby:  Well, go ahead.

Medium [loudly]:  God, can I have youwr attenshun?   ...  He said yes ...  God, was it your idea for me to come live wif Mommy and Daddy? ... He said yes ... Okay!  Thank you!  Amen!

Small Fry: I wanna pway!

She then proceeds to mumble, and so Hubby can't hear most of what she's saying.  However, as he pointed out, Small isn't talking to him.  He hears enough to recognize that Medium is helping her out as she prays.

Small Fry:  Amen!

Hubby  [now in line at the McD's drive thru]: I'm gonna pray now.

He prays for all three girls, that they'll have a good and fun day in school.  He prays for me, that I'll get all my payroll insanity finished (holiday weeks really mess up my schedule).  He closes with the standard "Amen," and then gets his food.

A quiet couple of minutes passes, in which Hubby is totally unsuspecting.

Small Fry:  Daddy?

Silly Hubby.

Hubby:  What?

Small [parentally]:  Do you need to say something?

Hubby [thinking]:  Say what?  [aloud]  I love you...

Small [cheerfully]:  I love you too.  [parentally again]  Do you need to say something else?

Hubby [thinking]:  Oh, this could be a long I play along or just ask?  Um, just ask.  [aloud]  Well, what would you like me to tell you?

Small:  No, something you need to say to God!

Hubby:  What would you like me to tell God?

Small:  You fohwrgot to pway for the new house!

So Hubby dutifully prays about our new house, thanking God that we were able to get it.

Small:  Dat's bettewr.

And then, Hubby realizes...his prayer was just critiqued by an almost-five-year-old.

1 comment:

If you are rude, spiteful, or just plain mean, there will be a $10 charge just for putting up with you.

Please be nice.