So, when I was a child, my parents nicknamed me (among other things) Wednesday. I'm sure it had something to do with being the middle child, always wanting to be in the middle, being the non-confrontational one, being the peacemaker....all of these things. A recent example to illustrate me being my Wednesday-ist (I just invented a word I think!) went something like this:
We are sitting in church, my Mom, Dad and I-- this is a weekend event for us and one that I cherish. We've (surprisingly) managed to get ourselves there early enough that we have a few minutes to sit quietly in the pew and my Mom decides to try to convince me to come out to breakfast with them after church. I am, of course, sitting in the middle, so I lean over to my Dad, after agreeing to the breakfast, and whisper, "Mom wants to go to breakfast after church." My Dad, who knew that the initial plan was for me to go to church then head home so that I could return to their house later in the evening for dinner, whispers back, with a grin, "She's a force of nature, isn't she?" I smile at him while my Mom nudges me and asks what he said. Without missing a beat I lean over and say, "Dad's excited about breakfast." My Dad, of course, starts laughing, while my Mom insists that it didn't sound like that's what he said. My turn to smile as I say, "I translated for you!"
See? Wednesday.
2 comments:
What a neat story! Thank you for sharring it.
I just realized, much to my distress, that I had missed putting you on my bloglines list so I have missed many of your recent posts. :(
That problem is now resolved and I am catching up.
You are too darn cute. Seriously.
Post a Comment