>Often, when our children are misbehaving or otherwise acting strangely, Tony and I rescind our responsibility in having created them.
“She’s your daughter - my daughter would never scream like that.”
“He’s your son; I don’t have to clean up after his messes.”
But then there are the times when The Critters do something, and Tony and I can no longer feign doubt.
Like the time Bear proved to us that she’s my daughter. We had been eating donuts for dessert (because that’s our weakness), and Bear had, as usual, gotten hers everywhere. As she got up from the table she noticed that some of the chocolate frosting had dripped onto her leg, but rather than asking for a napkin, she lifted her leg to her mouth and licked it off. “Can’t waste good chocolate!” she claimed, and Tony looked at me, eyes wide. “She is so your daughter! I’ve seen you do that!” he laughed, and my cheeks burned brightly because I couldn’t deny it.
And then there was the instance when I recently made a new recipe for dinner. I liked it, and Tony liked it, but Bug wasn’t a fan. He handed me his plate, told me “All done, Mommy,” and two seconds later, “May I have nut butter sammich please?” Tony snorted his meal out of his nose at that simple request, because for the past eight years he has tried every single meal I’ve made, and liked about three-quarters of them. For those others, though, after forcing down what he’s considered to be a decent amount, he’s asked to be excused to make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Every single time.
And then, of course, there is this:
It’s undeniable that they’re ours. The little things they do, the little things they say, show us that truly, the apples do not fall far from the tree.
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>Great post.My son is too young for these kinds of observations yet, but my daughter has been demonstrating just how much she is my wife's daughter since she was old enough to remind me that "Mommy doesn't like it when you leave your computer out on the table."
Posted by SciFi Dad | August 20, 2009, 04:14