Why are we as parents so proud? And why is it so hard to not think your kids are perfect? A couple of days ago, the kids came running in the house to tell us they had built a fort. "Uh-huh we'll be out in a minute," Mandy & I say. We try to share in their excitement but since they have just interrupted our serious girl-talk time, we are not irritated, but also not as enthused as they are. I'm sure we both expected to come out and find the picnic table covered with a tablecloth, but to our amazement, we discovered this genius masterpiece of architecture. Those of you who were fort builders, unlike myself, are probably thinking big deal, but I immediately had visions of Emma engineering the next Sears Tower. 
Then I see it, plain and clear, the flag. Aw cute and it says I love Dad. I immediately think of T, but Emma proceeds to tell me that Gavin didn't help with the flag, he was only hired for straight construction work. She reminds me that the flag also says GIRRRLLLS on it. "Right" I say and then the wheels in my head start turning.
Once again, the nine months of pumping milk from my chest and the constant running from dance, to piano, to friends, to school, to Wal-mart and where the crap ever else are overshadowed by the simple lessons in low-board diving and hitting from the left side of the plate. Maybe if I came home from work and immediately started throwing them from one couch to the other or pinning them with the classic body slam, the flag would've said "I love Mom." But it's ok, I will continue to be that annoying creature who lives in their home only to torment about taking baths, finishing homework, and practicing good oral hygiene.
Or maybe condoning this act will get me a little flag time:
It was about 40 degrees outside but Brooks de la Hoya and Cooper Marciano have things to take care of in the ring so they can't possibly wear shirts right now alright. Does Brooks show any hispanic blood whatsoever? Judging from his swing, there's proof of a little, but sadly no visual apparancy. Solamente gringo.
CRASH!!! Oh dear, that came from the way of Ft. Sumter...and I'm afraid to go look. I don't hear any crying but there's no way to tell if soldiers were inside at this point.
Gratefully, I have no casualties to report and there are currently no symptoms of tetanus either. The only unfortunate thing about this is now that my mom has seen Brooks with no shirt on and the collapsing calamity of '08, she will be calling shortly with a swift lecture. I'm not here Mom, but I love ya anyway (oh and can you watch my kids tomorrow night?)
E.J. and cousins immediately start rebuilding again. No crying, no whining, just get back to work and don't give up until it stands again. Did I mention that she's perfect? Maybe not totally perfect, but perty near close anyway.
I love a girl that can hold her own. Especially when she's my girl. Keep that flag flyin' chickie! Maybe when you're 20 and you realize that I just wanted you to be smart, clean, and confident, you'll paint that you love me on it too.
5 comments:
Wow, that fort looks awesome. Way to go Emm's. I am glad no one was hurt when he came crashing to the ground. I would've been afraid to look too. We can only hope that one day we will be appreciated. lol
LOVE IT!!! You put it all in to words so perfectly. Very cute.
My favorite was Brooksie and Coop in the muscle-man pose. Could we hook those two up with a mist-on tan at some point?? :)
Angie, your blog is seriously my favorite to read! you are such a good writer! Hilarious! Loved the comment on mine about Brooks and Troy Bolton. Who doesn't want to be just like Troy?
K- so I should be working, but I'm reading your blog instead!! Very cute!! Give yourself some credit! You were there to see the fort and document it, right? btw, I had a great time last night! We must do it again!!
Amy
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