Friday, February 22, 2013

Emmy's First Story

It was raining yesterday when I went to pick Emmy up from daycare.  As we walked out to the car, Emmy told me that God made the rain.  I agreed with her, and asked her if she knew why God made the rain.  Why is kind of a difficult concept still (she often answers the same thing for why, when, and where), so I plowed ahead and told her that God made the rain so that the trees, flowers and vegetables could grow.

Then we talked a bit about vegetables and people who eat vegetables.  Emmy is familiar with vegetables because during the spring and summer months (and often into the fall, bless you Tennessee's long growing season) we go to the farmer's market on Saturday mornings to "get vegetables."

Then, as we drove home, Emmy told me a story.  I'm paraphrasing here, because I can't remember it exactly, and I didn't realize she was telling a story until she got to the end. (It's hard to tell the difference between toddler rambling and more concrete communication attempts)

When she finished, I told her I loved her story and that we should write it down.  Emmy said, "Write it down?"  I promised I would, so here goes:

Emmy's story:

God made the rain.  God made the vegetables.  I (Emmy) broke the vegetables.  God made more vegetables.  "That's all the pages."

(That last part is a direct quote, and it's how I knew that Emmy had just told me a story.  She's just started saying "that's all the pages," whenever she gets to the end of a book, movie, or TV show.)

How's that for a solid understanding of God's love and forgiveness?  God made the vegetables.  Emmy broke the vegetables, but it's okay, because God made more vegetables.  (Maybe I'm reading WAY too much into it.  But I think I can be forgiven for that.  Probably.)

Also, clearly, Emmy is another in a long line of Rollins-Smith-Watson (and probably Schleicher and Eggenberger) story-tellers.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Hit the Road, Jack.

I'm still working on my post for Emmy's birthday, which, hopefully, I'll complete sometime before her next birthday, but in the meantime, I wanted to post this:

Grandma Susan taught her the hook to "Hit the Road, Jack," and she's been singing it for a couple of weeks.

This weekend, she made up her own lyrics.

She was eating lunch with Grandma Susan, and singing:

"Hit the road, Jack,
and don't you come back,
I'm eating my mac and cheese."

Tom missed it, so later in the car on the drive home, I was telling him that she had started making up her own songs, so I asked her to sing her lunch song for Tom, and she did.

I almost collapsed from the cuteness.