Monday, October 09, 2006

Stunt Double

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Okay.

Today at My Kid's Clubhouse, Jarrah's friend Anton got very excited about some plastic dinosaurs. He leaped up and down in his socks (socks are required) and then slid into home base on the slippery linoleum. Only home base wasn't there. He wasn't hurt, but I reached out a hand to help him up. This was followed by a crescendo-ing howl from behind me, and Jarrah came tearing into view. She positioned herself in the general area of Anton's spill, and kicked her legs like a Rockette, only both at the same time. Down she went, like a vaudevillian on a banana peel. She lay on the floor, looking pleased with herself. "Okay," I said, resisting the urge to applaud because I don't think 21-month-olds can read sarcasm. "You know how to fall, too. Hooray!"

A little later, I sneaked a peak at my New Yorker (doesn't that make me sound all cultured and whatnot? 'Course I should add that when it arrives these days I plunk it onto the kitchen counter with the thought "Huh. That's the one with all the words.") on one of the curiously uncomfortable video rockers. I could see Jarrah in the corner of my eye, busily frying up a whole plastic chicken in the back of the plastic RV. Seconds later, however, she threw herself into the rocker next to me.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said.

"Mmm!" she said, pointing at my magazine.

"You want a magazine?" I asked. She nodded. "Okay, then." I handed her a copy of Real Simple (I want to go on record and say this one was not mine. I will own up to US Weekly and In Style but agree with the mythical Libby Gelman-Waxner that "Real Simple sounds like the lifestyle publication for people with head injuries.") She opened it, and draped it over her lap. Then she leaned back in the rocker with a prolonged sigh. Her bangs covered her eyes. (Her barrette, as usual, was newly lost--do I have to buy them by the pound?)

"Had a hard day?" I asked. She nodded. "Feels good to relax with some light reading, doesn't it?" She nodded again, and grinned. Then we both lay back in our rockers, stealing a few precious moments to escape the weight of the world.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

You're being watched and imitated - bear this in mind!

I forgot, until the day I dropped a cereal box on the floor at Von's and my first-born (two years old) yelled at the top of his lungs, "OH, SHIT!!!"

Best, Gail

Alleen said...

Loved that story!!

And Gail - I howled at yours!

I'm afraid my experience with imitation is going to come in the car one day. It ain't gonna be pretty.

Kim said...

That is the most adorable story! I can just see the two of you sitting side by side "reading." So cute!

Anonymous said...

That is SOOOO cute! She's going to be your best girlfriend, Sam--I can already see the two of you shopping, sipping coffee, getting massages, and reading your trash mags together.

Miss J

Anonymous said...

Betcha proud, huh? I wish I was there to see it myself, Sam.

Good Jarrah.

Now we need to teach her to read Mother Jones. ;) (Though I too love the New Yorker!)