A Funny Story

Ashley doesn't have a computer right now as our home desktop is having virus problems. So, I thought I'd share a story to keep our blog up-to-date.

Today is Labor Day and since we have family events planned for later today I'm at home trying to get as much studying in as possible before the events begin. I don't have much time, so rather than waste 45 minutes of time traveling to and from school, I thought I'd make the most of my time by studying at home. This, of course, was unwise. I should know by now that very little time studying at home is quality study time. Here's a funny story that will illustrate what I'm talking about:

I'm studying at my desk in our office when I realize that the reason I can't concentrate is because Natalie is very obnoxiously whining downstairs. (whining: to utter a low, usually nasal, complaining cry or sound, as from uneasiness, discontent, peevishness, etc. Source: dictionary.com) In the hopes that I can do something to remedy the situation, I open the door to the office and call downstairs, "Natalie, what's wrong?! Ash, what is wrong with that girl?!" Ashley responds, "She's in the corner."

Normally, I don't interfere with Ashley's parenting, but since I'm sure that she doesn't recognize that allowing Natalie to whine is severely handicapping my ability to study, I take matters into my own hands by proclaiming, "Natalie, if you can't stop whining you need to go to your room." Natalie humbly replies, "K..."

Then I hear Elizabeth say from the adjacent bedroom, "Hey! Her room is my room, too!"

I go into the bedroom and proceed to have this conversation with Elizabeth:

Me: "Oh, you're in here, huh? What did you do?"

Elizabeth: "I didn't listen to Mommy and wouldn't put the fuzz down." (The explanation of the fuzz, as I found out later, is another funny story for another time.)

Me: "Oh. You should listen to Mommy, huh? Then you wouldn't have to be up here in this darn room."

Elizabeth looking up at me very sincerely: "Daddy, this isn't a darn room; I love this room!"

Me: "Well I'm glad you love this room, but what I meant is that you'd probably rather be downstairs playing than upstairs in this room and in trouble."

Elizabeth: "Yeah...But I love this room."

Now that I've finished reporting this amusing story (at least I think it's funny), Elizabeth just started screaming downstairs. (She had since been let out of her room.) Of course, I had to run downstairs to make sure that she was O.k. And, of course, she was just fine and over-reacted to slipping and falling on the tile floor.

Moral of the story: I think next time I should eat the 45 minute travel time and study at school.