The Thanks I Get

     My daughter was telling me on facetime about an early morning last week when she and her husband could hear their three-year old was up and about in his room. Sometimes he entertains himself a while before asking for them, and on this particular morning, his parents were hoping he'd let them sleep in a little longer.

     But this was not to be. Theo started calling for them and then rattled the knob to his bedroom door. He got a little louder insisting it was time to get up. And when his Mom and Dad did not reply quickly enough for him, they heard him say, “This is a waste of my time!”

Sarah at 3 and barefoot here

      I asked Amanda where Theo might have heard that phrase before? She looked a tad chagrined and said, “yeah, I wonder.”

     One might look perfect to the rest of the world, and then suddenly one is busted by the utterances of a toddler! And it is not only embarrassing at the moment when there isn't even anyone else around to witness your red face, but it continues to make you humble every time you remember the incident for decades to come!

     It was a Sunday morning at the Dewey house in Oklahoma, 1987. Amanda was a baby and likely not going to church with us. I was bouncing about getting myself ready, and I peeked into Sarah's room to see if she was making progress on getting dressed for church.

Amanda at 3 w angels and pandas

     Sarah was three years old. When I glanced into her room that morning, she was dressed and sitting on her floor. Her foot was in the air and Sarah was trying to put on a shoe. She was having trouble with it, and I heard her say in frustration, “And is this the thanks I get? No it is not!”

     Oh my gosh! Where had she heard that phrase? It was not something her Dad would have said although he was the source of a cuss Sarah picked up a couple of years later. No, what she said that morning had to have come from me. I'd like to think that I was just kidding when I said it, or it was directed at life in general and not at my child. And it was clear Sarah was not just imitating me but directing the comment at life in general. But of course, I took it personally, and how could Sarah have not taken it to heart when she heard me say it?

     I told the women's group at church what Sarah had said that morning – they thought it was a hoot! Maybe they identified with the mother or the daughter or both. Or maybe they laughed because I was such a singular screw-up. It is still a very embarrassing memory after all this time!

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