Remind Me

I was thinking the other day about how I like scary movies and haunted houses and Halloween in general. I wondered why. I mean, fear is an unpleasant sensation, so why did I take a Horror Film class?

I decided I like these things because they're an opportunity to face irrational fears head-on. And I think part of the reason I want to do that is because I was so often scared when I was a kid.

So my question is this: Was I scared a lot as a kid? Did I seem like a particularly frightened little boy?

Just curious. Happy Halloween. If you need me, I'll be watching Poltergeist or checking out the local haunted houses.

Remembering the Words

Sometimes it astounds me how articulate my 2 almost 3 year old is. I love having conversations with her as I learn so much about how the world works to a child. Often when she is supposed to be going to sleep, she wanders out to find me saying, in a sleepy, confused voice, “Mama, I can’t remember the words.” She is processing the days events, all the newness that she took in and when she can’t remember a new word she encountered that day, it bothers her.

It bothers me that she is growing so fast and I know that if I don’t write these things down, the day will soon come when I “can’t remember the words” to the stories that right now make up our every day life.. . . So here’s some Sophie stories from today, the little things I don't want to forget.

Today we were coming home from Costco and Sophie told me she wanted some gum. I didn’t mind giving her some, but I was behind the wheel so I needed to stall. We played a game that went like this. . .

Me: Do you chew gum with you nose?

Sophie: No.

Me: Do you chew gum with your eyes?

Sophie: No.

Me: Do you chew gum your ears?

Sophie: No.

Starting to run out of body parts so I got creative. . .

Do you chew gum with a dragon?

No.

(Somehow when this next one came out of my mouth I suspected her answer would finally change)

Do you chew gum with a fairy princess?

She paused and then a resounding “YES!”

*************

Rushing home from Costco I had this crazy hair brained scheme that I could dash into Deseret Book and finally pick up the picture I’ve been wanting for Sophie’s bedroom. She has a picture of the Savior placed close to the head of her bed, down at more of a child’s eye level and I explain to her that he is watching over her. I have wanted to replace it with this Greg Olsen work, since I know she will think it is a picture of her.

As we pulled up to the store, Sophie said, “are we here to get my picture?” “Yes,” I said, “It is a picture of you with Jesus.” “I like Jesus,” she said, “He is my favorite boy. . .that I’ve never met.” We ran in side. . .and I knew that it was Ladies Night there, but I’d forgotten that that means the line to purchase your goods meanders all the way out the door. Drats. We’ll have to pick this up another time. I scrambled and put Sophie back in the car and told her we would have to get it later. She was not happy that we were leaving the store without Jesus and when we pulled up in the house, she stayed inside the car, sweetly insisting that she would just wait there until we could go back to the store to get Jesus.

We’ll make that trip back soon, kiddo, I promise.