Kids like to know about their past. We don't have our photo books here because they got packed into storage so we haven't looked at them like we used to quite often. I was telling Joshua stories about himself from when he was a baby and toddler. There was never a more fascinated child! He sat so still I wondered if something was wrong with him. And then in a totally unrelated event, Erika told me that she needed to hear about her history. I asked if she meant stories about her ancestors. Her reply,
"You know who Erika is, right? And you know what history means, right? So, I want Erika history; About me!" OK. She wants stories about herself too. And I have them! Like the time I woke up to her cute little mug in my face, covered with chocolate from the Ovaltine she and Casey had been eating straight from the can. And all those hundreds of chocolate fingerprints they left on almost every wall in the apartment. And how Joshua used to watch us out of the corner of his eye during church and then dart away to the cultural hall before we could catch him. (have you heard hard shoes running on that floor? It could be elephants or a two-year-old.) Or there is always the time when they found my new box of checks and tore them into confetti because, "it looks pretty when they're snowing on us." More recently, there was the emptying of the fish tank onto the floor, one tiny tea cup at a time. So, yes, I have the stories and I'm willing to reminisce because after a while, they are funny.
7 years ago