Life

A Corny Story

 

Paul grew some popcorn in the garden this year. Here’s Levi holding a small ear of it. It’s a terrible photograph, but I hope you’ll cut me some slack – I had an extremely uncooperative model.

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It’s been kind of a rough week. I try pretty hard not to complain, because who wants to hear it? But Tuesday night we were at church talking to another family and we had a long conversation about how people – especially Christians – seem to want to pretend that everything is great and they’re handling it and they’ve got it all together. For Christians, it almost seems like a test of faith sometimes. If your response to trouble isn’t appropriately positive, well, maybe you just need more faith. I think this a bunch of hooey, in case you were wondering. Take a stroll through Job, or the Psalms. That’s some good complaining, there.

I seem to have strayed a little off topic. (Yes, I know. You’re shocked. Hush.) My point is that I’ve been thinking about that, and I decided it was okay to say it. It’s been a rough week. Levi doesn’t feel great, Elias is desperately seeking his share of attention, and this cast is a pain in my neck. The server that hosts my main client went down today, and I was scrambling to find someone to fix it at 4:45, and that stresses me out. I’m tired. And this seems really petty, but you know what? My toe hurts. Remember the day I almost didn’t fall? Yeah, that toe is broken. It doesn’t hurt horribly, but it hurts alllllll the time. I’m kind of over it.

But it is Friday, finally, and nobody has to work tomorrow, and my sister is babysitting so Paul and I can have a real-live date. Tonight, we didn’t have to do anything, really, and after supper, Paul decided to try out the popcorn.

You thought I wasn’t going to bring that back around. I’m hurt that you doubted me.

ENNyway. The unpopped kernels were sitting in a bowl on the table, which I wasn’t paying any attention to at all, until my sister told me quietly that Levi had told her his plans. He’s going to put a kernel under his pillow tonight for the tooth fairy.

He’s going to be mighty disappointed in the morning. My sister suggested writing a note or putting something besides money under there (Can I just take this moment to say that I have no idea how he even heard about the tooth fairy? I don’t object, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it. I’m blaming preschool.), which is really cute, but I’m afraid it sets an unacceptably high bar for the future.

I have many talents, and I think I’m a passable mom, but my Cute Childhood Activity(TM) skills are tragic. My children are probably going to have to hear some story about how living in the country means that it takes the tooth fairy longer to find the house, which accounts for it taking three nights for money to replace the tooth under the pillow. As an aside, if you are thinking it would be funny to give my children one of those Christmas elves that you have to move every night, remember that I will find a way to make you pay. Believe it.

And in closing, I am mildly curious about why Levi would think a tiny purpish kernel would fool the tooth fairy. I can’t decide whether he has a low opinion of her intelligence, or her eyesight.

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