It's that time of year again!
Time for either an incessant susurration of sibilance from the backseat of the car, or, better yet, a chattering storyline constantly interrupted with the compulsive blurting out of "Sparklies, yay!"
Tonight's drive home from swim was of the former variety, so that I could hear what sounded almost like incantations of some sort of Harry Potter-esque Parseltongue spell from behind me. In fact, it was so continuous that even Madeleine herself remarked upon it.
MADELEINE: (with weariness and relief as we turned onto our street) It's just been a RELAY with these sparklies YAY!
Madeleine's other uncontrollable utterance of late has been a slow evolution over the past year. Let me back up a bit to say that Madeleine seems to have the same touch of very mild OCD tendencies that I had as a child. Specifically, we both seem to share this feeling that we need to perform some sort of ritual in order to control something in our lives, like keeping our loved ones safe. I went through a (cringe-inducing embarrasing) period of my childhood in which I had rituals involving the number five, which happened to be the number of people in my immediate family. The problem was, I was too afraid to tell anyone in my family what I was doing or why, which left them to look at me like I was just a total and utter freakazoid. For instance, I decided one day that if I could leap over the baby gates (which we had up to keep our dog from going to the upstairs portion of our house, wherein she would always pee in our beds) five times without any part of my body touching the gate, it would secure safety for the five members of our household. The only problem was, I had to do it five times in succession, and if I touched at all even on attempt #5, I would have to start the whole process all over again.
Which led to my father finally exclaiming in exasperation, as his dunderheaded elementary-school aged daughter was hurdling back and forth ad infinitum over the baby gates, "Courtney, WHAT the hell are you DOING?"
Then there was my need to touch five white things within my house within the period of flushing the toilet before the flushing and hissing sound stopped. Hence, my family would see me come practically tripping over my pants as I panic-raced out of the bathroom, slapping my hand at seeming random over parts of the walls and furniture in the adjacent room.
A-herm. Yes. I wasn't weird as a kid.
So, ANYWAY, Madeleine began something at the very start of the pandemic which was obviously a way for her to feel like she was protecting her family in some small way.
It was always her parting words to me, upon exiting the car if I dropped her somewhere, or leaving the house to go for a run or walk:
MADELEINE: (cheerfully) Safety!
Then it expanded a little.
MADELEINE: (equally cheerfully) Safety to ALL!
Okay, just a minor modification. By this summer, it was more like this:
MADELEINE: Safety to all! I always love you all forever!
And now, here's what must be said EVERY morning before she leaves for school or before anyone else leaves the house:
MADELEINE: Safety to ALL! I always love you all forever with ALL MY HEART!
I can't wait to see what words have been added to the ritualistic good-bye by spring.
The utterance is still mostly cheery, though if she's in a huge rush for the bus it might be something like this:
MADELEINE: (crashing down the stairs, nearly face-planting in her hurry to get out the door) SAFETYTOALLIALWAYSLOVEYOUALLFOREVERWITHALLMYHEART! (door slamming shut.)
Yeah. So. Like mother like daughter, right?
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