Yesterday was a long outing sort of day. We left the house about 10 a.m. to head to Faulkner's Pumpkin Ranch in the city. The venue served as host to a good friend's little girl's first birthday party. Faulkner's has it all as far as fall family fun...pumpkins, barn animals, pony rides, tractor rides, bouncy houses, a hay maze, corn cannon, etc., etc. We left there about 2 p.m. and I had to run a few errands in the city before we headed home. We also had to stop for groceries, stop a Lowe's and at a friend's house so TJ could help her husband move a dresser downstairs. Needless to say, we weren't home until early evening, then it was quick dinner, more play time, bath and books. Nights when we've been on the go all day and I know the munchkins need to get to bed, we usually read one book together with both, then Riley gets a book by herself in her big girl bed. It's fun to watch her face squish up as she considers the importance of the singular book she gets to select. After much consideration, she decided on Poky Puppy's First Christmas. Not really a favorite of mine, or TJ's, but hey, we keep the eye rolling to ourselves. TJ does the narration honors, and after quite a convoluted, hodge podge of holiday preparations and antics, Poky puppy meets a friend, Herman. Herman the skunk.
Realizing we don't talk about skunks much, TJ asks Riley, "do you know what kind of animal that is"?
She shook her head no.
So, he tells her. "He's a skunk, a stinky skunk."
Ok. So, dutifully, Riley repeats back...he's "Herman the stunk." (Which IS sort of technically correct).
I am rolling. I am laughing so hard I'm crying. They are both staring at me as I halt the book's process with my outburst.
TJ, determined to correct her, says, "Riley, can you say skunk? Say sk sk skunk."
Smart girl that she is, she dutifully repeats back "skunk."
At which point, I must intervene and tell her that she was right the first time. I simply can't bear the thought that I will never hear that sweet little voice say "Herman the stunk" again.
I say, "Riley, can you say Herman the stunk plays the too-har"? (She has always called the guitar "too-har"). She's beaming her impish grin at me now, and repeats the phrase. I am in stitches again. The kind of laugh you need to have at least once a week or this world would just be too much to bear.
TJ is not amused. "Jen, stop it. Do you want her to be that kid at Kindergarten who goes around calling things by the wrong name?"
"Certainly, that would be a travesty," I acquiesce.
Riley, very amused, echoes. "Jennnnn, stop it."
Okay, okay, let's get back to the book so that Poky puppy can discover the true meaning of Christmas (which is...giving Herman the stunk a dirty old red rubber boot to live in, that he, Poky found in the woods, to make up for the fact that Poky's owners cut down the tree which hid the log which was Herman's home, see I told you, convoluted.)
Lights out. Last kisses.
But, man, I hope that's the book she picks tonight. I need to laugh like that more often.
