Last night I had the biggest laugh I have had in a long time, which is really saying something, because the cream filling inside of the Twinkie had really cracked me up the night before.
First, a little background. Olivia is very, very much like her Dad in interesting ways. She seems to carry many of his traits and quirks -- for instance, she is the most joyfully helpful person on the planet. She helps because she loves to help, and that is a quality from her Daddy. I am the grateful recipient of both of their good deeds! She also has a few of his... shall we say... tics. When she is excited, she will freeze up and then have a little bit of a spastic reaction -- rapidly scratching her head, stomping her feet briefly. It's very cute. She also makes little moaning sounds when she's relaxed or tired. Cracks me up.
One of those things is that she clears her throat. It's really become noticeable in the last six months or so, she just has to clear her throat all the time, just sitting there or in the middle of a sentence. Not because it needs to be cleared, it's just some kind of response. The Double B really notices this when I certainly don't because HE used to do this. And it was a hard habit to break, so he tries to encourage her to stop while she's ahead. He notices every time and usually comments to her about it.
So last night we're sitting at dinner and our youngest child's compulsion -- the nose picker, shall we say -- was made manifest. Daddy, the great enforcer, told her not to pick her nose. And then, in a moment of flashing light, Olivia threw in her two cents:
"Don't pick your nose, Katee, because that happened to me when I was three, and now I have a croakie voice that Dad judges."
If you don't think that brought down the house. I mean, we LOST it. Well, MOMMY lost it -- absolute gulping guffaws for I don't know how long, and the children followed suit. I'd look at the Double B and laugh harder, because it is just the dang truth and he sat there pretty stunned and kind of hurt that he'd given her that impression. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
When it finally calmed down, he said to her "I have nothing to say to that. Touché. Touché, Olivia."
The rest of the dinner was very quiet! Some things just can't be topped.
Olivia thought maybe I should put that on Facebook, since she's so funny and all, but Daddy assured her that it would make it to the blog. This one deserves to be part of the family history.
It was my night with primary to go down to the church and make sure Scouts and Activity Days had all the support they needed. So after checking in with everyone, I sat and chilled for an hour. When KJ and I got home, Daddy was asleep and the girls were ready for their promised treat for being so good and to be tucked into bed. We had strawberry shortcake and they thought they'd died and gone to heaven... it was fairly delicious.
And Liv made it onto Facebook, anyway, because she was sitting next to me chatting while Katelyn was whining about something or other behind us. I wasn't really paying attention to the whining, when Olivia turned around and said matter of factly: "Katelyn, Mommy doesn't want to listen to you whine because she's pregnant. And when pregnant ladies get mad... well, you know what happens!"