And the Oscar goes to...
My dream of hearing these words has changed over time, from having my name immediately appended to the phrase, to the realization that it will likely be my daughter's. I know this because she is seriously one of the greatest dramatic actresses of the modern age.
To wit: Last night, as her dad is bringing her home, my barrel of sunshine leaps into my arms, giggly and happy and filled with sugary-babygirl sweetness. "Bye, Dad!" she sings, as she throws her arms around my neck, kissing my cheeks, dancing back and forth in my arms. Filled with giggles she announces that she wants to watch t.v.
It is at this point in the story that I must add that I am totally a second-rate parent, one who apparently completely ignores the constant ringing of the clue phone in the background. Had being a mom required a college degree, forget the ivy league, baby-- Bob's College and Janitorial Supplies is more my level.
Completely ignoring the scene at hand, the fact that she's almost 3 and that she's been pushing her independence buttons more than one would think humanly possible, I smile at my sunny monkey and say, "Awww, we're done with t.v. for today. It's time for --"
With laser-swift speed, my daughter's tiny face cracks wide-open, tears exploding from her eyes. Before I can even finish the sentence, "nigh-nights," (READ: Bedtime) she throws her head back, shakes her tiny fists at the heavens and howls, "Noooooooooooooooooooo!!! NOO NOOO NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
My bored expression turns to see her father's rolling eyes.
Ms. Bernhardt pushes her face into my shoulder as she begins to wail. Said wailing continues for several minutes until her father, interrupts, saying his goodbyes.
Up pops the little head, wet faced but returned to calm, and out pops a charming "Bye, Dad!" complete with smallish grin. She then looks at me, throws her head back again, and resumes her Shatneresque wailing. ("Kaaaaahhhhnnnnn!!!)
I kept waiting for her to shout, "SCENE."
To wit: Last night, as her dad is bringing her home, my barrel of sunshine leaps into my arms, giggly and happy and filled with sugary-babygirl sweetness. "Bye, Dad!" she sings, as she throws her arms around my neck, kissing my cheeks, dancing back and forth in my arms. Filled with giggles she announces that she wants to watch t.v.
It is at this point in the story that I must add that I am totally a second-rate parent, one who apparently completely ignores the constant ringing of the clue phone in the background. Had being a mom required a college degree, forget the ivy league, baby-- Bob's College and Janitorial Supplies is more my level.
Completely ignoring the scene at hand, the fact that she's almost 3 and that she's been pushing her independence buttons more than one would think humanly possible, I smile at my sunny monkey and say, "Awww, we're done with t.v. for today. It's time for --"
With laser-swift speed, my daughter's tiny face cracks wide-open, tears exploding from her eyes. Before I can even finish the sentence, "nigh-nights," (READ: Bedtime) she throws her head back, shakes her tiny fists at the heavens and howls, "Noooooooooooooooooooo!!! NOO NOOO NOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
My bored expression turns to see her father's rolling eyes.
Ms. Bernhardt pushes her face into my shoulder as she begins to wail. Said wailing continues for several minutes until her father, interrupts, saying his goodbyes.
Up pops the little head, wet faced but returned to calm, and out pops a charming "Bye, Dad!" complete with smallish grin. She then looks at me, throws her head back again, and resumes her Shatneresque wailing. ("Kaaaaahhhhnnnnn!!!)
I kept waiting for her to shout, "SCENE."
posted by @traciAWESOME
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home