Do you have any idea how happy these make me??!!! For the past month or so, the back of Mary Aplin’s hair has been looking…well, frizzy. I don’t know why I didn’t recognize the texture, since its MY OWN, but I just kept thinking it was some weird baby hair thing. Then, the other day we went to my sister’s Squeal Day and spent some quality time out in the rain and humidity. Suddenly, my Aunt Alice said, “Just look at those little curls!” I was ecstatic. It looks like this little cherub may be growing some slightly strawberry curls. I could just eat them!
While Mary Aplin has been growing curls, crawling all over the place, and putting any object she can get her chubby fingers on into her mouth, what, you might wonder has Pace been doing?…Asking the question, “WHY?” I’m serious, the child asks me “Why?” about everything, and I am just about to lose my mind. The whole world is a question just waiting to be asked, and while I don’t want to squash her enthusiasm for knowledge, I can’t go on like this forever. I was talking to my neighbors about it yesterday, and Joel told me that Caroline (their 5 year old) started asking constant questions about Pace’s age and still hasn’t stopped. I won’t be able to handle that y’all! I’m not playing. By the end of the day, I feel so frazzled from all the questions that I am snapping at her. I have to take lots of deep breaths and have pulled Jeremiah to the side many nights and begged him to just try and absorb some of her energy. I mean, there are so many questions that just don’t have answers like, “Why is blue your favorite color?” or “Why do I have ten toes?” or “Why do birds fly?” or (this second) “Why did I drink all this?” Just try fielding those all day and get back to me on your mental status. Anyway, all the questions are not aggravating, some are actually quite hilarious. I think I’ll share a hilarious conversation with you, but be warned that if you can’t take humor about bodily functions, stop reading now.
This conversation went down in a restaurant in Midland City called the Red Owl. It was one of those good ‘ol Southern Sunday lunch buffets, in a restaurant with white table cloths where nobody, on this particular Sunday, was talking at all. It was bizarre to be in a restaurant with several tables full and silence prevailing. Anyway, it was in this atmosphere, in which a 2-year old still feels no need to talk below their normal extremely loud pitch, that the following occurred:
“Mommy, I need to go to the potty,” Pace began, as everyone turned to see us leave for our second trip of this lunch to the bathroom (a bathroom that had only one thin plywood wall dividing it from everyone’s ears).
We get to the bathroom and Pace gets all settled in before she turns to me red faced and says, “This is going to be a BIG one!”
“Oh, good Pace,” I said as my face turned red wondering if everyone outside was snickering.
After a couple of solid, umm, releases, Pace said, “Oh, LORD that felt good!” I couldn’t help but start laughing. I really don’t know where in the world she would have heard that exclamation, especially related to potty time.
“Mommy, is it bad to say Lord?”
“Well, not if you’re really talking to him,” I answered. What else could I say?
Pace started looking around and then said, “Where is he Mom?”
“Well, he’s everywhere Pace,” I said, as I questioned if this was the appropriate time and place to discuss the omniscience of God.
“I suppose that, yes, he’s even here,” I concluded. Not the time, just not the time to get into all that.
Pace looked up, to where we normally look when talking about where God is, and she saw the exhaust fan sucking away the lovely bathroom odors. “Is he in there?” she asked, and before I could even get an answer out through my laughter she said, “Well, if he is, he better get outta there, or he’s gonna get stuck!” And there we were, wrapping up a theological discussion over poo.
It was several minutes later before Pace finished her business on the potty. And I was a little embarrassed as we re-entered the restaurant–self-conscious about the time it had taken and wondering just how much everyone else had heard. Pace, however, left no room for question in anyone’s mind, because she ran straight into my Dad’s arms yelling, “I pooped Papa, and it was a BIG one!”