Welcome to the KingZoo and Funny Farm, where we learn to live, laugh, and love together. Here you'll find snippets of life in our zoo, parenting tips we've learned along the way, reflections on shining God's light in this world, passions in the realm of orphan care, and our journey as parents of a visually impaired child with sensory processing disorder. Have fun!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Boys and Girls
Speaking of my track-and-friend loving, Mom-ditching son, God blessed me with three wonderful sons. I love my boys. God also blessed me with three daughters. I love my daughters. While some may argue that in your household there is no difference between sons and daughters, there is a definite difference in mine. And I love it! This is why I am so thankful that Bringing Up Girls was just published. I have been waiting for this one since . . . Well, since I finished reading Bringing Up Boys several years ago. They are both excellent books, very insightful and extremely helpful. I highly recommend both of them if you have one or more specimens in either category.
Well, this is all a little too serious for me so tonight I leave you with something I wrote several years ago, back in the B.E. (Before Eden) era. I had forgotten about this little piece of literature but my mother saved it and recently gave it back to me. Yes, this wonderful woman who saved all my brilliant school days writings, is still saving my work. Here goes:
"You know God has blessed you with sons, when . . .
Five minutes into dinner: Son # 1 points out that the process of squeezing the ketchup bottle makes sounds which resemble the passing of gas, one of those topics of conversation that is not supposed to be voiced at the table. Because he is the first-born, compliant son, he drops the conversation as soon as I ask him to do so.
Five minutes later: Son #2 burps. Sons #1, #2, and #3 laugh hysterically.
Five minutes later: Son #1, needing more ketchup, makes sure Son #2 is paying complete attention. Both enjoy the sounds elicited from the ketchup bottle and if it weren't for me putting an end to the little show, Son #1's plate would be completely covered in ketchup.
Two minutes later: Son #2 mentions that he is trying to burp. I gently suggest that the polite thing to do would be to conceal it and none of us would ever know.
Two minutes later: Son #2 burps. Son #1 says, with genuine praise, "Wow! That was as loud as Daddy!" (Daddy just happens to be at seminary and is missing this whole show. It's a good thing, too, as he would probably join in) Son #3 laughs with the other two. Keep in mind that he is only 11 months old; he must be an early bloomer.
Five minutes later: Conversation about bodily noises and functions continues between Son #1 and Son #2 until I remind everyone (trying desperately to keep my own laughter at bay) that all such conversation and noises are banned from the dinner table. And henceforth are not allowed anywhere else for that matter.
Five minutes later: Son #2, finding no more enjoyment in the dull conversation that followed the previous one, has finished his meal and excused himself from the table.
Two minutes later: Son #1 leans toward me conspiratorially, and in a whisper says, "Mom, he (referring to Son #2) was passing gas in the bathtub last night." After a slight pause, he continues, "And it was really neat. Ya know why? Because in the bathtub it made these neat little bubbles." All resolve was immediately gone and I lost it but I also remembered that yes, even in the midst of less-than-favorable dinner conversation - I love my boys!"
2010 Update: Daughter #1, sandwiched between Son #2 and Son #3 has decided that if you can't lick 'em, join 'em and she can now burp "as loud as Daddy" herself. Mom has not gone the can't-lick-'em-join-'em route and to this day does not make gross noises at the dinner table or anywhere else. She is still trying to maintain order at the table while Daddy continues to prove that he is indeed the loudest of the bunch. With Daughters #2 and #3 it is too soon to tell but Mom is hoping they'll take after her.