15 January 2011

What God Wants

My four year old has had a bout of the runs today. Nothing too serious, but awfully unpleasant for the little sprite. She had to change her underwear once, and was fairly devastated.

Tonight, after sending the three girls off to get ready for bed, to brush teeth and change into pajamas, Little T spent about 5 or 10 minutes in her room howling for me to come. When I finally got to her, she has hiding behind her door, buck naked, and squeezing her little bottom cheeks together so hard her legs were shaking. She was trying to hold back the tide. I felt terrible for not arriving sooner.

Off to the bathroom we went. Without being too graphic, let me just say that the leg-shaking clench did not quite do the trick, so we had some clean-up to do. While I was cleaning her up, we had the following exchange:

Little T: "Can God change me into you?"

Me: "Oh, I think God wants you to be Little T, just the way you are."

Little T: "No. (said emphatically and sternly) God wants me to be you!"

Me: "Why is that, sweetie?"

Little T: "Because you don't poop your pants!"

I assured her that God loves her as is, poopy pants every now and then and all, and that if she were me, then I wouldn't have her, and God definitely wants us to have each other. Then I left the bathroom and had a good laugh.

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Also: you know how people name their ipods, things like "Cindy's Ipod" or "Best Music Ever" or something that actually makes sense? My 10 year old named his: R-dizzle fa shizzle ma nizzil off da hizzle drizzle. He charges his ipod on my laptop, so I have to look at this ridiculous name on my screen, or as much of it as will fit.

Does this mean he is destined to live with us for the rest of his life, work at Best Buy, and never get a driver's license?

I'm worried about that kid.

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1 comment:

Homemaker Man said...

Naw. It just means he's white. Your poor little girl. I'm quite sure God couldn't care less about pooped in pants. He's seen a lot worse.

Never Enough Words

When I was little, in our house in San Francisco, my parents – the wonderful Larry and Rose – hung a banner on the wall. This was the 70’s: ...