We have enough interest that the Peep Show will go on! It will be smaller than previous years, but that is okay. :)
All-O-ver, Ol-i-vore . . . we're learning that Oliver's name has some fun mispronunciations.
Also, ask him what is name is and this is what you'll hear: "My name is Oli . . . Oli . . . Oliv . . . Oli . . . I don't know."
Here I am at SFO. Again. What should have been a 40 minute layover has turned into a 5 hour layover with merely a possibility of getting on the red-eye at 10:30. Flying standby. And if I don't get on the standby flight . . . they tell me my next shot at JFK isn't for 24 hours. Yeah. So let's hope that doesn't happen. And if I don't get on standby, well, there's got to be another way home.
S: Oliver, Is Mom a child of God?
O: Yes!
S: No, Mom is a grown up!
The one night -- ever -- when Micah and I get to bed at 10:00 and could, feasibly, get 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep, Simon wakes up crying inexplicably at midnight and can't go back to sleep, Oliver falls out of bed, and we're all out a couple of hours of sleep. Clearly we need to never try to go to to bed early. It's the only way to get a good night's sleep around here.
The dear child has surprised us yet again with hitherto undiscovered talents, which he unveiled just in time for Father’s Day much to Micah’s (and my) enjoyment.
Exhibit A:
You may not be able to discern what the talent is at first sneeze, so allow me to point out the finer points. Note, first of all, the false modesty with which the child begins his performance. “No camera . . . no talk to me.” But then, when confronted with his own beautiful visage, he cannot contain his delight (that’s how we know the modesty is false). He clearly thinks he’s as cute as we do. And then, sigh, that lovely falsetto. Who knew the boy had such singing chops? Not us. Surely he will do us proud as a countertenor at the Met. Our hopes are as high as his voice.
Exhibit B:
At church today the Primary (ages 3-11) and Nursery children (ages 18 months-3) sang some songs for Father’s Day. We were thrilled to have our son demonstrate his newly-found gift for a wider audience, of course, and sent him to the front of the chapel post haste. He was still one of the last children there (blasted short legs and shorter attention span!), which, thankfully, meant he was on the front row. He didn’t know that, though. All he knew was that as he was walking up the steps, he found himself facing a wall of children. His way was thwarted. He was stuck with his back towards the congregation. Nothing could be done so he just stood there. Facing the rest of the kids. Through both songs. Singing to the choir, if you will. Two parents have never been so proud. Or taken with such a fit of the giggles in the middle of sacrament meeting.
Despite his predicament, I was told by someone that he could hear Simon loud and clear, his voice carrying angelically above the other children’s.
I think he was lying.