Friday, February 06, 2009

Humantistic

About five o'clock in the evening, things tend to cut loose around here. Feelings are worn out on sleeves, tempers flare, blood sugar starts plummeting, mouths get sassy...and that's just me! We call it The Witching Hour.

The ending of the day is almost always a traumatic time. Once I get dinner on the table and everyone sits down, we find peace in the routine of eating, playing with Daddy, family devotional time, and then bed time. But that time between five and when everyone is finally at the table? Sheer mental insanity.

The easy thing to do would be to feed the kids a little earlier. And some nights we do, allowing Daddy more play time and then a nice dinner for two after bedtime. Eating together as a family is very important to us, though, so more often than not, I just repeat the mantra 'Do not have a fit, do not have a fit, do not have a fit, you are the Mommy!!'

Besides the simple togetherness that sitting down as a family for a meal provides us with, we are also frequently the beneficiaries of our childrens' wisdom and imaginations. Last night, however, took the cake.

I'm really at a loss as to how we got onto the subject of snakes and worms at dinner (lets face it, with this many kids, topics are going to be varied), but there we were. About the time I was ready to call a halt to the silly proceedings and remind my little people to concentrate more on their plates, Thomas started telling us about The Silver Worm.

"The Silver Worm was shiny", declared Thomas.
"Shiny? Like our forks?" asked Daddy.
"Yes! And he was crawling beside us while we drove our cars. He was fast!"
"He was crawling on the road?" asked Daddy.
"No. He was crawling in the grass", said Thomas, very matter-of-factly.
"Oh. I see."
"And then he crawled over to Mommy and she opened the door and let him in the van! He was fast!"
"Oh, she did?" queried Joshua, eying me across the table.
"Yes! And he was just humantisitc!" exclaimed our little story weaver.

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humantistic - hue-MAN-tis-tik -verb - a combined effort of humongous and fantastic

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At this point, the adults at the table dissolved into hysterical giggles. Some of those adults had the respect to try to shield the kids from their laughter, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. Not me. I, their dear, sweet mother, guffawed. Yes, indeedy, sir. Right there at the table. In my son's face.

When asked about how big The Silver Worm was, Thomas thought for a second, looked over at Sarah Grace, then held his hands about two-ish feet apart. "About that big," he told us, as his hand moved closer together, finally stopping about 8 inches apart.

Again, laughter from the over five-foot population. And the seriousness of the realization that this kid would never make a good fisherman! Fishing tales get longer, but Silver Worm tales get smaller, I guess.

This obvious laughter only spurred him on. The tale got wilder and funnier until it finally dwindled and the young man and his imagination had to refuel on dinner.

It is fleeting moments such as this that I am so glad that we push through The Witching Hour and insist on family dinner. Priceless are these times of togetherness, and I intend to keep lapping them up.

1 comment:

Deeapaulitan said...

That was Fantasderful! :oD

We still have witching hour around here... but it has moved to a much later time as the kids have gotten older. Now it is around 8 pm and if it rears it's ugly head, the kids just simply look at me and ask if I need a little pillow time!
Turkies.