A little over a week ago, we were able to sit down to dinner as a family at our table. This was something my parents, siblings and I usually did when we all lived together, but since I have started my own family, this has not been the case. (There is an explanation for this in the post called "Grrrr....".)
We don't always get to sit down and eat together as a family. Tonight we got to, again, because M (my Fiancé) finished up working as I finished making dinner. I don't know how most people feel about sitting down and eating together at a table, but we thoroughly enjoy it. M and I were talking about how much we enjoyed eating at the table together and then he ripped one (meaning he farted for those who are not fart connoisseurs). He apologized and then said, "I should have excused myself. I'm not used to eating at the table". This was the way the rest of dinner went. If he wasn't passing gas, then he was saying sorry for saying something that was not table appropriate. Each time it ended with, "I'm not used to using table manners" or "I'm not used to eating at the table".
I'm sure he'll get the hang of it. :)
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Grrrr....
My Fiancé, our 1 1/2 year old son, and I live in the home that my Fiancé’s Grandpa built in, I think, the 50s. There is still stuff from then around. For example, not long ago we had to clean out a desk that we are using as a tv stand because our son kept getting into it. That stuff has been in there since my Fiancé’s mom was little. Nearly every drawer in this house is a “junk” drawer. It drives me insane. I have been trying to organize it since I moved in. The task of organizing this house especially seems impossible when a certain Fiancé of mine keeps stacking his CDs, Magazines, and other junk everywhere. I am one of those nagging women because of it and I don’t want to be!
Anyway, I have been working especially hard today to make a dent, while my son lets me. I started to work on the table that sits in the entrance hall. It was stacked two feet taller with albums, CDs, mail, coupons, and other random things. I handed my Fiancé a battery to his drill that was sitting on the table for some reason. I handed it to him and asked him to put it with the tools that he needs to take down stairs (I have made a considerable pile for him to take down). Then I turned around to put something away and when I turned back around the battery was right back where it was before I handed it to him. I growled in frustration and, perhaps, rage.
Without missing a beat, our son growled the exact same way I did. In that instant, my frustration and rage completely vanished. We laughed and I said, “That’s right! You tell him!” I love that our son can diffuse any anger or frustration that we have with each other in a moment.
Anyway, I have been working especially hard today to make a dent, while my son lets me. I started to work on the table that sits in the entrance hall. It was stacked two feet taller with albums, CDs, mail, coupons, and other random things. I handed my Fiancé a battery to his drill that was sitting on the table for some reason. I handed it to him and asked him to put it with the tools that he needs to take down stairs (I have made a considerable pile for him to take down). Then I turned around to put something away and when I turned back around the battery was right back where it was before I handed it to him. I growled in frustration and, perhaps, rage.
Without missing a beat, our son growled the exact same way I did. In that instant, my frustration and rage completely vanished. We laughed and I said, “That’s right! You tell him!” I love that our son can diffuse any anger or frustration that we have with each other in a moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)