It's Vewy, Vewy Qwiet
Okay, so I've actually got a collection of short James stories this time, but probably the best is the one (two...) that inspired the title.
First, though, very quickly. The other night James and I were sitting on the loveseat in the theatre watching Toy Story (I think, might've been Toy Story 2, I'm pretty sure it wasn't one of the Cars movies). Lately he's taken to wanting to sit at the opposite end of the loveseat. After a few minutes he'll even move the cushion over there and hand it to me to hold. And make no mistake here, it's for me to hold. I've tried taking it, saying thank you, then putting it down between us or on the ottoman. Both fail, he'll announce "no" and hand it back to me.
Anyway, this evening as the movie progressed he moved more and more toward the middle, until he was scooched right up against my hip. Then he took my hand and put it around his shoulders. Then he turned to me and held up his sippy cup full of milk and said "Drink, Daddy!" He was completely serious on this point, too. He wasn't looking back at the movie until I took a real drink.
...
Okay, next one. Yesterday, as I was walking across the parking lot to the car after work, I phoned home. I normally do this any time I'm leaving particularly late or unusually early or any time I have a sense that the day might've been a rough one and I should call to see if I can do something to help on the way home. Yesterday fit none of those, but I just felt like calling, so I did.
The call connected and there was silence on the other end of the line.
"Hello?" I asked after a moment. Nothing. "Hello?" I tried again, applying the number one Microsoft Windows problem solving technique.
"Ah here na PHONE!" Or something kind of like that. There's absolutely no way any of this could be a direct quote, despite my use of the quotation marks. Forgive me, please.
Anyway, I now had a handle on what was going on. Christine saw my number come up and she immediately handed the phone to James. Adorable. So I started talking to him.
"Hey buddy! How's it going? Did you have a good day?" I might've gotten that far before I heard a click on the end of the line and a flurry of DTMF in my ear told me that James had it a redial or speed dial button or something.
That's when things took a turn for the completely surreal.
I laughed, because kids trying to sort out technology is funny. Except then I heard Christine on the other end of the line "Hello?"
"Hey Mama, how's it going?" I started.
"Mama?" James asked more-or-less the same time.
It turns out that the phone had rang at home when I called. James was upstairs "napping" in our room and he answered the phone when he heard it. The amount of time we had been talking had been just long enough for Christine to conclude that it must've been me calling and my call got dropped, so she was going to call me back. She'd picked up the downstairs extension and, without listening first, dialed my cell phone. She had no idea James and I were already having a good little chat, I had no idea he'd decided he was old enough to answer the phone on his own and he had no idea anything at all unusual was going on.
Kinda made my day, that conversation.
...
Very quick, kinda scary one. This morning Christine watched James unlock the deadbolt and open the front door to let himself out. Gotta get on that.
...
Last of all. On Canada Day James and I spent a lot of time just soaking in the inflatable pool on the deck. It was an extremely civilized way to spend what I normally view as a completely uncivilized holiday here in the capitol. Around noon James became aware of just how quiet it was in the neighbourhood. He looked at me very seriously and whispered, "Daddy? It's very quiet." (Which, in his current speech sounds a lot like "vewy qwiet", which makes it evey cuter.)
I confirmed, "Yes, it is very quiet. It's lunch-time, so everyone's probably inside now."
"Daddy, it's very quiet," he told me again and again I agreed.
This kept up for a few minutes until Christine asked me to ask him what he'd like to drink with his lunch.
"James? Mama wants to know what you'd like to drink with your lunch."
"It's very quiet," he said softly and solemnly.
"Yes, it is very quiet, but Mama wants to know what you'd like to drink with lunch."
"Ssh! It's very quiet," he said, holding a finger up to his lips.
I nodded, grinning, and agreed, "Yeah, it's very quiet, but Mama--"
That's when he crawled across the pool and put a single finger over my lips and repeated, "Ssh, it's very quiet."
First, though, very quickly. The other night James and I were sitting on the loveseat in the theatre watching Toy Story (I think, might've been Toy Story 2, I'm pretty sure it wasn't one of the Cars movies). Lately he's taken to wanting to sit at the opposite end of the loveseat. After a few minutes he'll even move the cushion over there and hand it to me to hold. And make no mistake here, it's for me to hold. I've tried taking it, saying thank you, then putting it down between us or on the ottoman. Both fail, he'll announce "no" and hand it back to me.
Anyway, this evening as the movie progressed he moved more and more toward the middle, until he was scooched right up against my hip. Then he took my hand and put it around his shoulders. Then he turned to me and held up his sippy cup full of milk and said "Drink, Daddy!" He was completely serious on this point, too. He wasn't looking back at the movie until I took a real drink.
...
Okay, next one. Yesterday, as I was walking across the parking lot to the car after work, I phoned home. I normally do this any time I'm leaving particularly late or unusually early or any time I have a sense that the day might've been a rough one and I should call to see if I can do something to help on the way home. Yesterday fit none of those, but I just felt like calling, so I did.
The call connected and there was silence on the other end of the line.
"Hello?" I asked after a moment. Nothing. "Hello?" I tried again, applying the number one Microsoft Windows problem solving technique.
"Ah here na PHONE!" Or something kind of like that. There's absolutely no way any of this could be a direct quote, despite my use of the quotation marks. Forgive me, please.
Anyway, I now had a handle on what was going on. Christine saw my number come up and she immediately handed the phone to James. Adorable. So I started talking to him.
"Hey buddy! How's it going? Did you have a good day?" I might've gotten that far before I heard a click on the end of the line and a flurry of DTMF in my ear told me that James had it a redial or speed dial button or something.
That's when things took a turn for the completely surreal.
I laughed, because kids trying to sort out technology is funny. Except then I heard Christine on the other end of the line "Hello?"
"Hey Mama, how's it going?" I started.
"Mama?" James asked more-or-less the same time.
It turns out that the phone had rang at home when I called. James was upstairs "napping" in our room and he answered the phone when he heard it. The amount of time we had been talking had been just long enough for Christine to conclude that it must've been me calling and my call got dropped, so she was going to call me back. She'd picked up the downstairs extension and, without listening first, dialed my cell phone. She had no idea James and I were already having a good little chat, I had no idea he'd decided he was old enough to answer the phone on his own and he had no idea anything at all unusual was going on.
Kinda made my day, that conversation.
...
Very quick, kinda scary one. This morning Christine watched James unlock the deadbolt and open the front door to let himself out. Gotta get on that.
...
Last of all. On Canada Day James and I spent a lot of time just soaking in the inflatable pool on the deck. It was an extremely civilized way to spend what I normally view as a completely uncivilized holiday here in the capitol. Around noon James became aware of just how quiet it was in the neighbourhood. He looked at me very seriously and whispered, "Daddy? It's very quiet." (Which, in his current speech sounds a lot like "vewy qwiet", which makes it evey cuter.)
I confirmed, "Yes, it is very quiet. It's lunch-time, so everyone's probably inside now."
"Daddy, it's very quiet," he told me again and again I agreed.
This kept up for a few minutes until Christine asked me to ask him what he'd like to drink with his lunch.
"James? Mama wants to know what you'd like to drink with your lunch."
"It's very quiet," he said softly and solemnly.
"Yes, it is very quiet, but Mama wants to know what you'd like to drink with lunch."
"Ssh! It's very quiet," he said, holding a finger up to his lips.
I nodded, grinning, and agreed, "Yeah, it's very quiet, but Mama--"
That's when he crawled across the pool and put a single finger over my lips and repeated, "Ssh, it's very quiet."
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