Where Would We Be Without Our Kids

I thought maybe this week I might depart from talkin' on myself, and bring up a couple of memories of our family growing up.

The first one was stimulated by a Stake talent show we went to in Anthem's very nice park.  Normally it would have been a very nice activity during this time of year, but...what are the chances...it rained for most of the time.  Not torrential, but a steady sprinkle, and the temperature dipped to 70, so the program, 20 songs long, seemed much longer.  When, about three-fourths of the way through the program, Jeanne thought one of the groups inserted an unscheduled  song, she was scandalized!   It reminded me of when...

Elise was about seven and was involved in the University-sponsored "String Project".  They had a recital one Saturday morning...a bunch of little kids playing 30-second pieces, so there were a bunch of numbers...I think maybe 40 or so.  The whole thing probably didn't last more than about thirty minutes, but time can be very different when you are small.  About half-way through, 4-year old Steve Jr tugged on my sleeve and whispered in a desperate voice, "How much longer?".  I figured saying "15 minutes" would be meaningless to him, so instead I showed him the program, and pointed to the halfway-mark in the list of numbers.  He just crumbled in a heap of tears...it was more than he could wrap his young brain around.  I put my arm around him and tried not to laugh out loud.  It still makes me laugh as I write.

Probably four and a half  years earlier, several months before Steve joined us, I was in my first semester of law school, and was home alone with the four girls that made up our family then (I think Jeanne was magnifying her Young Women calling that evening).  I had put Beckie to bed (she was still a baby), but she was a little restless.  I was trying to get in some studying, and I think I must have set the other three girls with some books (we didn't yet have a TV) for a little pre-bed entertainment.  At any rate, in spite of several increasingly annoyed "shushes", the volume got louder and louder as they laughed themselves silly making frog sounds: ribbet, ribbet, RIBBET RIBBET.  I finally lost it, stomped in and in very loud, stern tones gave them what can only be described as a tongue-lashing.  At the end of my tirade I said, only slightly less loudly, "Well, what do you have to say for yourselves???" as I looked each one in the eyes.

Then, from a very remorseful-looking Elise (2-1/2   years old) came this:“ribbet”   Again it was all I could do to keep from paroxysms of laughter.  

These and so many more everyday happenings are the substance of life that add flavor and color to life, and I would not trade a single one.