Sunday, March 23, 2014

The Vest

Yesterday morning, Son #1 and Son #2 dressed up in vests, a dressy shirt, and nice jeans.  I thought they looked absolutely adorable.  They were very proud of their outfits as well and hopped into their dad's office to show off their clothes.  My husband commented.  "Wow, boys!  You look really good!"  His eyebrows raised slightly with approval.  A look of pride appeared on my husband's face.  The boys wriggled with delight and then ran off to the living room to play. 

Later in the day, we packed up some food, got into the car, and drove to my mom's house for lunch.  As we pulled into her neighborhood, Son #1 began to complain about his vest.  "I don't want to wear my vest!  I want to take it off!"

"Why?"  I asked with a touch of confusion.  "You look so cute in your vest.  Wear it.  Then, you can show it to Abuelita (Grandma)."

"No! I don't want to!"  Son #1 shouted in defiance.

"Too bad.  You have to wear your vest."  I said, laying down the law.  Normally, I try not to be so rigid about clothing.  However, Son #1 likes to change his clothes at least two to three times a day.  All I wanted was for him to stay in his original clothing one day out of the week.

Unfortunately, Son #1 did not like the law presented to him.  We continued to argue discretely as we entered Abuelita's house.  Son #1 pouted in the dining room and pulled his arms inside his shirt.  "Don't take off your vest."  I warned.  Son #1 poked his head out from the dining room and eyed everyone around the corner.  Then, he silently inched past the crowd to the other side of the kitchen. 

My husband noticed that he had taken off his vest.  I noticed as well.  "Where is your vest?"  I asked.

"I don't want to wear it anymore!"  Son #1 responded with a cross look on his face.

I bit my lip and looked at my husband.  My wise husband presented a way out of a bad situation for our eldest son.  "Are you hot?  Is that why you took off your vest?"

Son #1 eagerly replied.  "Yes.  I was hot."

"Oh, you're hot.  That's O.K.  Just go hang up your vest in the closet."  I said with a bit of relief.

"Thanks Mom!  I'll wear it when we go home."  Son #1 assured me.

Later as we sat at the table to eat, my sister's mother-in-law noticed a peculiar sight.  "I think I just found Son #1's vest."  She observed and then pointed to a large vase in the corner of the room.  I looked over my shoulder and began to laugh.  Son #1's vest was shoved tightly into the vase.  Only a portion of it poked out of the opening.  My sister's mother-in-law looked amused.  "He must have hidden the vest in hopes that you would forget about it later."

Oh, Son little stinker!  What am I going to do with you?

Friday, March 14, 2014

The Buttered Bread

Several weeks ago, our little family was enjoying a lazy supper in front of the television.  I honestly can't remember what we were watching but it probably fell into the educational cartoon category.  My husband had just sliced some freshly baked, homemade bread when the boys danced into the kitchen.  They batted their long eyelashes and gazed at their dad with their wide, green eyes.  Then, they held out their hands expectantly and hopped around the room shouting.  "Please!  Can I have some bread?"

My husband slathered butter onto the steamy slices of bread and placed them on a plate for each boy.  Son #1 and Son #2 carefully carried their treats to the living and gently sat on the carpet.  For a few brief moments, there was silence as the kids savored the tasty bread.  Their eyes closed partially with delight as they stuffed it into their mouths. 

Son #2 slowly rose to his feet.  His cheeks were smeared with butter.  His hands were sprinkled with bread crumbs.  He toddled over to where I sat in my rocking chair.  Then, he tilted his head slightly as if to ponder a thought.  I looked down at him and said.  "What's going on, baby?"

Son #2 clasped his sticky hands together.  His cheeks shone with butter as he pursed his lips to form his reply.  He paused, carefully reviewing his answer.  Then, he opened his mouth to speak.  "Ummmm...well..."

Son #2 paused again and then let out a torrent of baby talk decipherable only to other babies.  I'm pretty sure his answer was very poignant and dignified.  I just wish I could have replied with something more thought provoking.  Unfortunately,  I could only give a standard "mommy" response. 



"That is so cool."

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Bedtime Prayers

Two nights ago, our little family sat down together to read worship and pray with the boys before bedtime.  First, we read from the toddler devotional and then we read from the Bible story collection.  The boys were captured by the vivid details for each story.  They listened respectfully as the Bible verses were read.  Then, they knelt down to pray.

Son #2 began.  "Dear Jesus.  Tan to for nite nite.  Tan to for the food.  I love you.  Amen."  (Translation:  Dear Jesus.  Thank you for night night.  Thank you for the food.  I love you.  Amen.)

We all echoed.  "Amen."  My husband look at our eldest son and said. "Now, it's your turn."

Son #1 bowed his head, closed his eyes, and folded his hands.   He softly began.  "Dear Jesus..."

Just as my eldest son started his prayer, Son #2 loudly continued.  "Dear Jesus.  Tan to for dis day.  Hep me to be goo.  I love you.  Amen."  (I don't want to translate.  I just want you to think he wants to be goo.)

Son #1 laughed and shouted playfully.  "Hey!  It's my turn!"

I giggled and whispered to Son #2.  "Shhh!"

My husband directed Son #1 to begin again.  Son #1 said respectfully.  "Dear Jesus..."

Again, Son #2 interrupted his older brother.  "Dear Jesus.  Tan to for da food.  Tan to for nite nite."

Son #1 tried to help his brother finish the prayer.  "I..."

Son #2 would not hear of it.  "Oh no no no no no!"  Then, Son #2 continued undisturbed.  "I love you.  Amen."

"Amen!"  We all echoed.  My husband turned to our oldest son and said.  "O.K. Try again."

Son #1 settled down to pray with a small giggle.  "Dear Jesus.  Thank you for this day..."

Son #2 jumped right into the pray.  "Dear Jesus.  Hep me to go nite nite.  Hep me to be goo.  I love you.  Amen."

This time we couldn't contain our laughter.  Poor Son #1.  He could barely get a sentence out while praying before Son #2 interrupted him.  Of course, Son #2 was just excited about his new found ability to pray.

I patted Son #1's knee and told him to try again.  Son #1 folded his hands but only closed one eye as he suspiciously peeked at his brother.  "Dear Jesus..."

Son #2 hopped right into his older brother's prayer.  "Dear Jesus.  Tan to fo Mommy, Daddy, and Brudder.  I love you.  Amen."  Son #2 grinned from ear to ear.  He was so proud of himself.

Son #1 laughed and said.  "Alright.  Now, it's my turn."  Then, he bowed his head and began.  "Dear Jesus.  Thank you for this day.  Thank you for my family, relatives, friends, and pets.  Thank you for Sabbath tomorrow.  Help me to have only good dreams and no bad dreams.  In Jesus' name.  Amen."

At the end of the prayer, Son #2 clapped his hands together and exclaimed.  "Ame-e-e-e-n!"