Surprise!

Living with young children is a lesson in anticipating and fielding the unexpected. Some days the surprises are parceled out sparingly, and other days they fly fast and furious. Often, these unforeseen events are amazingly entertaining. Sometimes, they just suck. There's no way to prep ahead of time or know on which side the next surprise will fall. The key, I have found, is to enjoy the wonderful moments when they come and run for cover whenever an explosion hits.

Surprise # 4,672,924
In front of Sophie's school this morning, we spotted an elderly gentleman valiantly jogging down the street. He looked like a hero to me, plugging away despite obviously being extremely hot and tired. Sophie, however, had a different take. "Look at that silly man running, Mommy!" she exclaimed. "Hey you, Silly Man! Why are you running? Where you going? Why are you being silly?" The gentleman looked startled at Sophie's verbal onslaught but remained silent as he slowly hobbled past. (Seriously, I doubt he had the breath to say a word even if he'd wanted to. The dude looked about one minute away from collapsing.) Of course, Sophie would not be denied. She took off running after him, shouting like a maniac about how she wasn't a maniac. "Silly man! You don't have to run! I won't hurt you, I promise! Did you hear me, Silly Man? Come back! I SAID I WILL NOT EAT YOU!!!"

Surprise-O-Meter Assessment: Slightly alarming, but totally entertaining.

Surprise # 4,672,925
For the first time in months, Emma agreed to let me french braid her hair for school. Initially I was excited, but I quickly remembered why I had stopped braiding in the first place. About 30 seconds in, Em started complaining that I was pulling her hair. By the end, she was screaming "YOU'RE KILLING ME!!!!" and practically frothing at the mouth. Once finished, Sophie and I oohed and aahed at how pretty her hair looked. I even took a picture so Em could see the view from the back. (See Exhibit A.) I was kinda proud of myself for producing (somewhat) straight braids under such adverse conditions.

Exhibit A

Em took one look in the mirror and started crying hysterically. "I look BALD!" she screamed before crumpling into a shrieking heap on the floor just like The Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. She continued wailing the entire way to school, and I (mostly) clenched my jaw shut against the angry words that were bubbling in my throat. I pulled into the drop off lane, and the teacher on duty opened the door to help Emma out of the car. Clearly, he could tell with one look that something was awry. To his credit, he didn't glare accusingly at me while assuming I must have clubbed my daughter over the head or pulled the legs off all her dolls or committed some other such horror to illicit such an hysterical reaction. In fact, he didn't even ask what was wrong. He just nodded at me and said, "Have a good day, Mom. I'll take it from here." Then he whisked her into the school building while I managed to keep myself from weeping in gratitude.

Surprise-O-Meter Assessment: HORRID. Have fun, Covington Elementary! For the next six hours, she's all yours. God bless.