Don't yell it out. Write it out.

These little hands will grow to write some funny, funny things. Not always on purpose.

          As you may have gathered, our house is currently filled with females, save for one male dog who is obviously confused since he acts as if he is part cat and part goat. This means there are plenty of dresses, doll excitable giggling as our constant companions.

          As you can also imagine, this means we are subject to a lot of emotional bickering amongst one another as girls have been known to do.

            Yesterday after a failed bike ride due to a flat tire, we spent a long walk home sniping at each other. To demonstrate her anger, Chris reached into her pain purse and pulled out the phrase she often uses when she wants to show just how horrible I am: “I wish you weren’t my mom.”

            You would be proud of me. Instead of retaliating like my grade-school heart wanted, I clenched my fists and spat out the ultra lame retort, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

            We stomped home and slammed the doors to our respective bedrooms, Chris to pout and me to take an angry and exhilarating shower. Before I finished bathing and fuming, though, Chris appeared and told me she left a little something for me in my towel. I had visions of broken glass or poison or some equally evil item.

I was surprised to find, instead, a heart-shaped cut-out. I was even more surprised to read it and find that it was not a letter of apology, and was more than a little impressed at a six-year-old’s use of sarcasm when it read, “I am sorry Mommy that I heart you.” Wow. Pretty savvy to admit that ‘I’m sorry I ever loved you as you have thrown me into the depths of despair’.

            So imagine my surprise when she threw her arms around me in a hug and kissed me on the cheek. Twist the dagger a little more, why don’t you?

            I must have looked confused since Chris then took the note from me and read it aloud. “I am sorry Mommy that I hurt you.”

            Oooooohhhhh, that makes more sense. And it makes me feel better.

            “I’m sorry I yelled too,” I told her, laughing, and as nicely as possible told her that she had spelled out heart instead of hurt and it was unintentionally funny. Phew!
            The instance did remind me that Chris has already learned that sometimes it’s good to write out her feelings. And sometimes it’s pretty hilarious, especially because she’s so earnest about her subjects.

This was a three-page card! Note that once again Chris
and I are both wearing crowns. Some kind of theme here.

            I recall that one of my favorite bits of her kindergarten homework was one in which Chris was asked to create her own planet. Her description read like this, “This is my planet Isabella. It is made of glitter and feathers.” It was accompanied by a shiny pink orb with rays of happiness emanating from it. What else can you expect from such a girlie girl?

            My favorite note to date, though, was delivered to me by a haughty child when I returned from work one night last year. I had skipped most of the morning of work that day to attend a vocal concert at Chris’ school but slaved the afternoon away shoving eight hours of work into a five hour day. But during the morning I watched her with pride from across a gym filled with about 200 parents and kids. I laughed as she grinned a toothless smile, bounced her curly pig tails and waved at me no less than 30 times.

            After her portion of the concert was over and her class sat down cross-legged on the floor in front of the stage for endless announcements, I took my queue from other parents and snuck out the door. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do since I received the following note at the end of the day. I will translate for you with slightly better spelling and punctuation, but please note that for a kindergartner Chris was already accomplished at making a serious situation a hilarious read for her mother.

            “To Mom from Chris Brown,” (in case I forgot which of my only children might be writing). “When you were at the concert, I cried because you left without doing anything to me.”

            Her later explanation told me that I left her school without telling her goodbye, because my 30 waves from the audience weren’t quite enough. When she cried all the way back to her classroom that I cared more about my job than my own child, her teacher told Chris to draw a picture about what she was feeling. I especially love how the picture depicts her (labeled ‘me’) with a frowny face and tears. It also shows me (labeled ‘Mom’) underneath a smiley sun, a huge grin plastered on my face and my arms raised as if to say, “Yes! I can finally go to work as I have dreamed about all morning instead of spending time with my kid!”

Chris "Kride". Mommy Laughed.

            Her father, grandparents, extended family, friends, Santa and even teachers have been on the receiving end of one of Chris’ notes of love/anger/irritation/congratulations/etc. at one time or another. Fortunately for all of us, they have often been unintentionally funny and worthy of recording for future laughs. I am doing my best to continue to antagonize her so that I will have a novel full of hilarity with which to torture her in her teen years. After all, she deserves to feel the dagger at one time or another too, and I plan to make title my dagger ‘Embarrassment’.

"Dear Mom. I love you because you olwas make me dinr. And you prite. Love Chris"
Translation: "Dear Mom. I love you because you always make me dinner. And you are incredibly, awe-strikingly, so very gorgeous."