This trait, gift, skill - whatever you want to call it - didn't just skip me, it full on LEAPED. No wait, it FLEW at a fast rate way over this (read: my) generation and landed SMACK!! onto my first born. So did her blue eyes. Anyway, Eliza and Henry both enjoyed the activity. Thank you, Mom!
"Nana, what's your most favorite thing to do in the world?" In an equally sweet tone, she replied:
"Spending time with my family." Before I could sponsor the Hallmark moment, my Mom returned the question.
"What's your favorite thing to do in the world, Eliza?" Having anticipated the question, she easily responded,
"Snuggling with my Mom and... doing art! Those are my favorite things to do in the world." Despite maintaining a neutral facial expression, my heart was singing. What a darling girl I have! Before I can relish the sentiment a second longer, Eliza halts my internal chorus with the additional remark. Laughing heartily she says,
"...And tooting in my Dad's face! That's another favorite thing to do." I am displeased with her candor. My Mom, a true lady, generously offers a smirk despite being slightly offended. Expecting my reprimand, Eliza hurries to continue,
"Dad started it with his trick." I know exactly where she is going with this. I make a feeble attempt to change the topic.
"Remember Mom? When Dad said that he had a treat for me in his back pocket? But he really didn't and he let out a giant... " She is laughing again.
And with that, our charming afternoon of sewing has taken a dramatic turn. The hallmark mood has been shattered and in its place a shocking display of my reality. My crusade to instill manners is continually fraught with my husband's belief that flatulence is funny and socially appropriate.
However, when informing him of this evening's post he insisted that I add that the war of toots began with this boy.