A friend's blog post recently ( boondockramblings go check it out, it's fun) reminded me of a funny story about my own kids and their crazy mother (who shall remain anonymous) that I just had to share.
I could write a book about the things I find myself saying to my children. One day, Bella and Buddy, just 12 months apart so they are always at each other's throats, where sitting next to each other in the back seat of the car. Bella started screaming hysterically because her hand was stuck. I assumed like any mother of siblings that Buddy was holding her hand captive. She was too upset to tell me if this was the case or not. I kept asking Buddy if he was holding her hand and could he please let go. He would not answer me. I was getting more and more hysterical myself in my questioning of them both as I was trying to concentrate on the road and at the same time calm Bella and find out if she was about the lose her hand like she seemed to think or if it was just a matter of getting Buddy to let go.
I was still not getting any answers out of any one so I said, “Buddy, put your hands up so mommy can see them.” Nothing, he just stared at me. I repeated this a few more times, getting louder each time. Still nothing. It dawned on me that he might not understand the instruction. He is not prone to open rebellion. So I said a little calmer, “Buddy, praise the Lord.” (I was raised in a non-denominational church where people often lift their hands to the Lord during a worship service. My parents use to say to me when I was little, “praise the Lord.” I would then lift up my hands and they would tickle under my arms. It worked every time… I was a bit of an idiot as a child apparently. This stuck and we now tell our kids “Praise the Lord” when we want them to lift their hands up so we can take off their shirt, etc.) I repeated this praise the Lord a few more times and received more blank stares. Bella was getting more frantic, I was paying much less attention to the road then I was comfortable with and so in desperation I shouted, “Buddy Justice, PRAISE THE LORD RIGHT NOW!” Eyes widened and two tiny hands shot up in the air. Bella, of course, remained hysterical since she was still stuck and her brother had had nothing to do with it.
I may have been responsible for hurting my son’s future “praise relationship” with the Lord but I was able to get to the bottom of things, pull over and get Bella’s finger unstuck from the hole in the seatbelt next to her. Just one of many times I have found myself thinking… “Now that was a strange sentence!”