Tuesday, December 18, 2012

An Irish Wake For A Polar Bear


Hey y'all -

Cedar's been calling our house a lot lately to talk to Laney. I used to hand Laney one of our phones and then I'd get on another one, just to help facilitate the conversation. It didn't take me long to figure out that you guys didn't need my help, because y'all don't care if you can't understand each other, and you're perfectly willing to have parallel conversations - one talking about monkeys, one talking about grandmas.

90% of the phone conversations between Laney and Cedar are about: "Are you coming to MY house?" "You're coming to MY house!" "OK, you come ta MY house." Sometimes it's for real, but most often it's not. Sunday afternoon, Cedar called to invite us to a for-real dinner at her house. While washing dishes, I was sort-of listening to Cedar and Laney on the phone making plans for the evening. I'm so glad Brooke filmed it on her end, because now the social negotiations make much more sense. I've subtitled Laney's part of the conversation, in case you can't hear it:



You know you live in the deep boonies when a fellow Montanan says (as Cedar does :44 into this clip), "I think we're gonna go in the woods and see you."

Laney decided to take a bag of her toys over to Cedar's, including a hard plastic polar bear. Cedar's dog River took a fancy to the bear, and turned it into plastic confetti. The bear went out in a blaze of glory, and the band played on:


I arrived at Brooke and Todd's that night with a box of wine under my arm. I explained that I sometimes feel like I'm surrounded by cacophony. EVERYTHING IS OBNOXIOUSLY LOUD ALL THE TIME. LOUD LOUD LOUD ALL THE TIME TIME TIME. And part of me was considering putting my mouth right up to the wine spigot and treating it like a sport bottle. And that was before Laney startled tinkling the ivories.

So, if you're a grandparent and you watched that last movie clip and you're thinking, "Laney sure loves playing that piano. Maybe she needs one of her own..." Stop yourself. You send anything like that to my house, and I'll toss it in our wood stove without looking back.

I'm a woman on the verge, y'all.

Love,
Mom

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