A third slice of Pie

It’s been raining.  For like, fourty days and fourty nights already.  Good God, we’re cracking up over here.

Must. Get. Out. Of. This. House.

So, off we go… to the library.  A little change of scenery, a little something to do.  Three little ones on the potty, two changes of outfits and one minor tantrum, and we are out the door.  Ooops…back in… I just realized I hadn’t yet brushed my teeth…

Perfect.  Just in time for story group.  What luck!  We make our way in, babies join the circle, and I grab my coffee.  Really…this is brilliant.  Why didn’t I think of this yesterday? 

Suzy the Storyteller reads a farm story and then goes around the circle and assigns each child an animal moniker.
“Sienna- you are a silly sheep”.  She couldn’t be any prouder. 
“Jackson, you are a Giggly Goat”.  Hee, hee, hee- he’s okay with that, but doesn’t love all the attention, so he turns his eyes down toward the ground. 
“And Caden… Cade- you are a magnificent monkey.”  Smiles, giggles… And then it happened.
No warning, just completely out of the blue…

“And you, Miss Suzy, are a Pussy Human.” 

Oh.
My.
God.

What did he just say???

Six bitty words.  Barely audible, delivered in a sweet, tiny, little baby voice, but just loud enough to shock and horrify the crowd of mommies, nannies and the one, handsome, I mean, really handsome dad in the group.

And that, my friends, is when it hit me. 

Sudden Onset Deafness. 

I gathered up my belongings, smiled at the crowd, grabbed three sticky, little hands and signed “Thank You” to Miss Suzy and “All Done” to my little love bugs, who are all fairly well-versed in sign language and knew exactly what I was telling them.  I remained conveniently hard of hearing until we hit the elevator. 

“Caden- for the love of God, why would you say something like that to Miss Suzy?  That is not a nice thing to say!”
And, without hesitation, came his insightful reply, “Wouldn’t it be silly to name her a pussycat?  She’s a human! And… Jerry calls Tom a pussycat all the time, so I don’t even know why you’re so ang-y.”

Thank you, Cartoon Network.

Thursday’s agenda:  Obtain a new library card at an Out-of-Town Library where we’ve never been and/or managed to insult anyone yet.

ps… I do not condone falsifying illnesses and/or medical conditions.  I do not think hearing disabilities are funny.  In fact, I have no excuse for this completely inappropriate behavior, except that i think it was some sort of defense mechanism.

But, I didn’t really mean it.

Like that, anyway.

I think you’re great… and we are so lucky to have found you, but really, I didn’t mean to say that.

I was struggling to hear you, and I knew you were busy.  Dinner was on fire, Sienna was crying and clinging to my leg as I paced around the kitchen… out of the corner of my eye, I could see the boys, on the deck, wearing nothing but rainboots, planning their escape. 

I was trying to give you all the details of the fever, the lethargy, the color and texture of the stool… all the things I was certain you wanted to hear.  And when you assured me that my motherly instincts were right on and promised to call the prescription in to the pharmacy right away, thereby sparing me a late night visit to Urgent Care with the three, overtired babies, I was so overcome with gratitude to you, that I said it:

“Thank you sooooo much, Dr.Medina. Have a good night.  Okay, thanks.  Love you.  Bye.”

And then it hit me.  Immediately. What the hell did I just say? And now I have to face you.  For the first time since I told you I loved you.

Great.  Looking forward to it.