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Taylor got hauled out of
the Rainbow Sunday
If you weren't
at the Rainbow Sunday after church you missed the entertainment. Our precious
little Suzie Myrtle was the impromptu entertainment and she must have been good
because every-
one clapped as she made her grand exit with Granddad.
Well, maybe that isn't exactly how it was, but it makes
a better story than the "real story." Children these days are truly a work of
art, aren't they? They are all so much wiser than a hundred years ago when we
had ours. I think it has to do with television more than anything else. And have
you seen the little Rug Rats cartoons? She (Suzy Myrtle, aka Taylor) is Angela
to a tee!
After her little demonstration in front of God and
everyone we automatically went back to the days when children got their butts
spanked or their mouths washed out with soap for the things they did and said. I
think the wheels (to get even with her precious grandparents) started in motion
after church
when she made a wrong turn while leaving her end of the building and Granddad
went the other way. Needless to say, she was "sad" when they finally found each
other.
By the time we got seated and our orders taken, she
started "the test." You know ... the one to see
just how far one can go and how much one can get away with in a public place
with other people watching. She was antsy and squiggly in her chair and decided
to get down and dance with her twirly skirt. Granddad said no; Nana mistakenly
said it would be OK, there was no one at the table behind us and as long as she
stayed back there, she could use up some of that energy.
They never miss a trick, do they? She apparently heard
me say ''as long as she stays back here out
of the way," and immediately went out into the waitresses line of traffic. No,
Taylor, you can't be out
there just dance back here, and the fight was on. She became more persistent as
of course, so did these two adults who were beginning to feel foolish at what
was building up and by that time the audience was very attentive.
To make an otherwise long story short, she put her
hands on her hips, planted her feet in the floor and dared her granddad to
follow through with his threat to take her back home without her lunch. You know
the look ... "You wouldn't dare and I'm making a scene and you can't stop me,"
... that look.
Ed looked at me and I looked at him and did the old
thumb over the shoulder trick ..."get her out
of here," and in one fell swoop she was trapped in those big old arms that are
just for hugging and
hauled out through the entire building kicking and screaming.
Her father wasn't real happy with her either and she
was still on a rage by the time she got home
and let him have it, too! Oops! We laugh about it now and it will be interesting
to see how she acts the next time we take her out in public.
When we were raising ours, there were still rules and the
parents were always in charge or at the least, had parenting privilege, if you
will. Ed had only to point a finger at a mischievous child from across the room
to encourage him or her to settle down. So, what does that have to do with
anything? Beats me. Just thought I'd throw it in. We all have our stories, don't
we?
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