This is a great idea from Gypsy Mama. Now let’s see if I can write uninterrupted for five minutes. It’s supposed to be more stream-of-consciousness than edited and perfected posting.
Because I ever have time for editing and perfecting.
The first Friday of the New Year. The topic is roar…
Roaring for what exactly? And how? Amelia likes to roar. Especially when she’s strapped in the grocery buggy for longer than thirty minutes and the line is long and she’s bored. Then she starts roaring. So I say, Amelia are you a tiger? And she says in that sweet little almost-two lisp, Yesh.
Then we pretend to be an elephant, a pig, a cow, a duck, a chicken, an owl (with flapping arms and hoo-hoo) and a lion (which is basically a tiger again). It’s adorable and makes me feel like a roaring mama. Fended off that tantrum, that’s right.
Sometimes she roars and chases her sisters around the house. They squeal and run and climb in and under the kitchen table and make lots of noise that I sometimes get annoyed by. So then I roar like a mean mama. And they get in trouble for—for what? For being kids? For having fun? For distracting me from something that can’t possible be as important as they are?
Their daddy roars with them too. He chases them all around the house and they play and play. Always right before bedtime. And I’m usually in the kitchen wiping down the table and wishing I had the courage to roar just for the fun of it. Just to hear my own voice and their laughter.
ROARRRRRR……I’ll work on it.