Everyone thinks that their kids are awesome. And they should. Because they ARE awesome. Lots of people in New York have dogs for children and they push them around in strollers (Iamsonotkidding) and talk to them like they're talking to a two year old child and I look away and pretend like I didn't notice because they should be totally embarrassed about that, right? Besides, my kids do the following things that I am almost positive a dog can't do.
One afternoon this past week, Lucy and Lane and I were headed out to pick up the older kids from school. Lucy bolted out of the elevator and across the lobby and left one shoe halfway across the room. She doubled back and met Lane at her shoe and this was their exchange:
Lucy: I just turned into Cinderella.
Lane: (kneeling down and putting the shoe on her sister's foot) I am not a prince now, Lucy. I'm just a girl.
Last week after church, the Primary President came over to me and said, "I don't know what you said to Ethan, but thank you!" I just stared at her blankly and she told me that, according to his teachers, he raised his hand at the beginning of their lesson and said, "I have an announcement to make." He then stood in front of the class and said, "I think we should all be more respectful of our teachers by listening to their lesson." And then he sat down. Amazingly enough, the kids were less disruptive and more reverent.
Finally, Mila brought me the first part of her essay to read, entitled "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover." Here is an excerpt:
"For example, if you see a new kid and she is fat, you do not just say 'She is fat. She must eat, like, McDonald's every night. She is gross and I won't be her friend.' You will eventually tell her she is fat and gross. She probably won't like it and won't react with a big hug and a box of chocolates. . . there may be another side to the whole story. Maybe the girl is just wearing a big puffy coat and she is really exercising and eating brussels sprouts."