Friday morning was one of those days where we’re aaaaaalmost done with the week, and everyone is tired and grumpy, and we’re running late and wishing it was already Saturday. So when Chickadee dragged her way through her shower and came downstairs late and then was fussing with a necklace instead of eating her breakfast or feeding the dog, I may have been a little impatient. There may have been some yelling. She may have flounced out the door without even saying goodbye, and I may have been righteously indignant that SHE was mad at ME when I wasn’t the one dragging ass.
When the phone rang and the school came up on the caller ID, a couple of hours later, I figured she was calling to apologize and/or make sure I wasn’t mad. That’s kind of her way. And so I was very surprised when I picked up the phone and she asked me if I could come get her.
Turns out, it’s kind of hard to get ready on time when you have a fever of 102. (I totally had to buy her a pony to make up for what a jerk I was earlier that morning.) She was really a very good sport for someone who probably felt like dog poop, but as she proceeded to be sick all weekend we had to find some low-key ways to keep her entertained.
My very favorite game to play with a sick child is Let’s Take A Nap. It goes like this:
Me: How about you go take a nap!
(if sick child is) Monkey: Okay. Good night.
(if sick child is) Chickadee: But I’m not tiiiiiired!
(If you think about it, it’s kind of fascinating. I mean, Monkey is the one with the complete inability to TELL you he’s unwell or even, apparently, recognize it. But if he’s sick and I suggest he take a nap, he heads straight to his bed and conks out within minutes. Here Chickadee is always I’M DYING yet you’d think the nap was the number one enemy of the people.)
In order to try to encourage my darling daughter to rest, I often climb into bed with her and snuggle and try to get her to settle down enough to realize that she’s sleepy. She’s wise to my tricks, though, and often wants to read a book together or otherwise chat endlessly to fend off any potential opportunity for sleep.
So. I’m lying there with her, and the dog, trying to say soothing things. (“Youuuuu are getting veeeeeeeery sleeeeeeepy! Yooouuuuuur pillooooooooow is caaaaaaaalling!”) Meanwhile, Licorice is flopping around like a beached fish, licking one of us and then the other, much to Chickadee’s delight. Finally I get the dog settled down and Chickadee decides she’s going to read me a book. So she reached up and grabs… Help! A Girl’s Guide to Divorce and Stepfamilies.
Now, I want you to understand that I wholeheartedly recommend this book. It’s a great one, particularly for girls in the 6-10 age range, which is of course when we bought it, years ago. The format is a lot of Q&A, so girls feel like other girls have the same questions they do, etc. Like said: Great book. I think it was enormously helpful for Chickadee to have it on hand as we went through all the changes the divorce and then my remarriage wrought.
That said, given that 1) it’s now a little young for her and 2) she was burning up with fever and consequently a little goofy, her reading of said book took a definite turn for the ridiculous. First she started reading passages in a variety of strange accents, landing—quite disturbingly—on something that sounded an awful lot like Dr. Ruth. (“Ven you are feelingt sad, you should TELL YOUR PARENTZ!”) Then she started making up captions for all of the little cartoon pictures, and it wasn’t long before we were both giggling so hard, Otto stuck his head in to see what was so funny.
“This girl is sad because her ears are big!” she’d howl, at the drawing of the girl so sad about her parents’ divorce, or maybe just about the size of her earlobes.
“I wish my mother had a face!” I declared, seeing the series of picture of the girl talking to her mother, whose drawing always seemed to cut off right at mouth level.
Maybe you had to be there. It was super entertaining to us.
“Wait wait, let’s read this one!” Chickadee said, as we flipped through the book looking for pictures to recaption. “‘If you feel awkward with your stepdad at first, that’s natural,'” she read. She put the book down and turned to face me. “I feel awkward with Otto. Very awkward.”
I laughed and she grinned at me. “Three years hasn’t been enough time to adjust, huh?”
“Nope! It’s all just so TERRIBLY AWKWARD!” she exclaimed. She flipped a few more pages. “Oh wait, listen to this one. ‘I have a stepdad. He wants me to call him Dad,'” she read. “‘But I just can’t. He annoys me every day with the same remark: Don’t call me Doug, call me Dad.'”
This, for some reason, was hilarious. Poor Doug! Poor kid with a stepdad named Doug! The book’s advice was sound: Let him know that it bothers you, because he may not understand how hurtful it is to put pressure on kids about the names Mom and Dad.
“‘Maybe Doug’s parents have always called him by a special name that you could use, too,'” Chickadee read. “Oh, I know!” she said, “She could call him MY DARLING SON! I bet his parents call him that!”
Again we were making quite a commotion, and Otto stuck his head back into the room. “Do I need to separate you two?” he asked.
“No, that’s okay, DOUG!” called Chickie between giggles. “We are just talking about what to call you!”
“Um,” said Otto. “Please don’t call me Doug. On account of that is not my name.”
“Okay, MY DARLING SON!” she agreed, doubled over again.
Otto came in and sat down on the bed with us. “I’m not sure I like this book,” he said. “It seems to be making you weirder.”
“THIS IS AWKWARD!” Chickadee yelled, rolling around on the bed, book flapping, giggles magnified by Otto’s confused expression. “I feel awkward, Doug. Please go away.”
Poor Otto. He, of course, was only too happy to tickle her in retaliation, because that’s what guys who have stepdaughters who are that weird have to do.
“AWKWARD!” she shrieked. “STOP TICKLING! IT’S AWKWARD!”
Eventually he stopped. “Thank you, Doug,” she said. “I mean, my darling son.” Otto shook his head and left.
At dinner Chickadee refused to stop calling him Doug, and Monkey started calling him “my darling son” just for good measure. I have to say, Otto is being a pretty good sport about it.
Maybe because everything is just so awkward.
Too bad it took a fever to get the silly to come back out, but it sounds like y’all are doing just fine :)
I’m sending this one to my “Doug” who will just love it.
Hugs to all of you and I hope Chickadee is feeling better today!
Wow, she’s got quite a sense of humor, doesn’t she? I’m trying to picture my kids at 12 and hoping they can be so funny.
Hi, Doug! :)
I like the way you use the word “flounce” every once in a while describing your little tween. ha!
Yes, flounce is the perfect word to describe a preteen’s movements. They just don’t walk anymore. Then with a teen, you get scuttle, if they’re late or sneaking off somewhere, and schlumpf, if you’re making them go do something they don’t want to do, which is practically everything. But they will take a nap again at the drop of a hat.
Nice!! Glad you could all be silly when she was sick! Hope she’s feeling better!!
WOW!.. THAT is so AWKWARD, my darling son Doug.
Funny post, Mir. Feel better Chick.
Teen girls are in a perpetual state of flounce.
Hope Her Flouciness feels better…
Laughing out loud- great story, Mir!
I am laughing so hard that tears are leaking out of my eyes. I’m glad my daughters and I aren’t the only ones who get into those weird moods. And our own almost-Doug never seems to know what to do, either! (But tickling is always a good default reaction. Yep, he’s a Good Doug.)
Feel better, Chickie!
Sorry Chickie was sick but it made for a very funny post!
SO glad my family isn’t the only one that get hysterical over things no one else finds funny. Found myself in TEARS over a phone-photo I took of my oldest daughter (she was being a pirate. You had to be there) unfortunately in the middle of a Very Serious Awards Ceremony which meant from then on everything was HILARIOUS. Awarder person just scolded the emcee! HEE HEE HEE!! The music sounds a bit like a dying cow! AH HA HA HA!! Other audience members are starting to fidget and want to look around at us! Maybe we should shut up! SNRK…
Awkward indeed
Poor poor Doug, cause all I could think of was “Dug”, the dog character in Up.
“I hid under your porch, because I LOVE YOU”
Love her sense of humor! Made me laugh out loud, literally.
LOL
I wish I knew about that book when we remarried…not so much for my kids but for his. Hope she’s feeling better!
Wow. Otto rocks. :-) Long live her royal flounciness, princess of silly!
Also Mir, you’re pretty. And have shiny hair, and did I mention that you’re an amazing mom? This post brought back the giggle-memories of my own sick-days with my mama. :-)
This post made me do a literal LOL. My girls and I were like that, too. Come to think of it, we still are. Thank heaven.
Hope Chickie’s feeling better.
And that Doug didn’t catch it.
/gets coat
Laughed until I cried and stopped breathing. Then laughed more. This sounds so much like my mom and I when I was that age (heck, us now 20+ years later).
To a lifetime of laughter in spite of everything else!
A hug for Doug! (Knowing men like him exist makes it easier to move on from losing my own dad.)
And one for you for sharing this and so much of your life. You help me maintain my hope that things will turn out just fine in my life too.
So are you going to stop calling him Otto and call him Doug now? I kinda like it. It’s got a funky beat.
I kinda want to join in your giggle fest ;)
This post is hilarious! I was laughing so hard reading it that my fiance wanted to know what was so funny, and when I read it to him, he couldn’t stop laughing either! Hope Chickie’s better; they do say that laughter is the best medicine!
I too went strait for Dug the dog from Up, which made it hilarious in it’s own right.
Hope she’s feeling better & none of the rest of you have it.
I’m such a pessimistic, worry-wart idiot: after the first line or two, I was sure it would be a post about Chickadee’s, erm, “monthlies” starting, and some horrifyingly awkward, embarrassing related situation with Otto or at school.
Thank goodness it just turned out to be laughing-’til-you-cry silliness! :-D
*snort*
You know, I bet the laughter did make her feel better.
Silliness is AWESOME! I feel sorry for people who don’t know how to do it. (I had to teach my husband to be silly, because he didn’t come that way naturally. Poor guy!)
This made me laugh heartily. Thanks for sharing the silly moment. :)
Mir, I NEVER laugh aloud. Well, almost never. My kids tease me about it. I find things amusing and even funny but the laugh gene took a detour on me. I was laughing, really laughing, at the vision of the two of you. Thanks for sharing!