Lucy and I are together nearly every day. If she isn't at my house we're texting. If we're not texting we're calling and occasionally, for no reason at all, we email. This means I have lots of tales about Lucy in my personal treasure trove. I thought it might help her pass the pre-labor period if I tell her about some of my recent favorite moments in our relationship.
Every year I write Lucy and Ric's family Christmas card. I make it sound like I am Lucy when I write it. I hope that's not dishonest, and if it were Lucy would not care in the slightest. This year I used the word "aggregate" in talking about Lucy's church job: the ward bulletin. When she proof read the first draft she said, "Remember? Don't use words I don't know and can't pronounce in real life."
This year I also wrote her Christmas card a little snappy to match the tone of her spirits right now. I don't mean to brag but there was one line in there that had me rolling down my stairs with self-generated laughter. It was (ahem, in my modest way) hilarious. When I read it out loud to Lucy and Chup neither of them thought it was one stitch funny. She made me re-write it.
Lucy can see into people's souls. The other day she came over and before I could even say anything she said, "I can tell you are in a bad mood." I was pretty dumbfounded because I was in a bad mood, but I hadn't even admitted that to myself yet. And then she folded all my laundry.
Every year at this time, like Swiss clock-work, Lucy comes to my house looks at the Christmas cards people have sent us and passively says, "I think it's a sparse year for Christmas cards, don't you?"
The other night Lucy read a quote I used from our friend Sue in a post about haters. The quote said, "If only you were nicer...like Lucy." After she read that line Lucy texted me and said,
That's right. I am nice.
And because it's on our minds, I said, I really think you are going to have this baby on Sunday.
And she texted back, "I really think I should punch your face in."
Lucy and her 18 mo daughter Betsy, who we call Boots around these parts, have become so integrated into our lives The Chief woke up in the dark hours of night last week yelling for Lucy. And if they don't show up on any particular morning, The Chief will start his incessant questioning, "Mom, where Bootsy and Woosie go? Mom, where Bootsy and Woosie go? Mom, where Bootsy and Woosie go?" All morning long until lunch, (which he calls, yunch--'L's do not yet exist).
And the weird thing about that is when they do show up, The Chief will give his beloved Bootsy an enthusiastic hug and then terrorize her for the entire span of their visit. He takes her toys away, he shadows her constantly, he doesn't share anything. Yesterday we were water coloring and she wanted to color on his paper and he steamed like a tea kettle. And throughout it all, Lucy is so calm and patient with my son and talks to him with this super saccharine voice, "Oh can Bootsy see that truck, please?" I don't know how she does it, how can you stand seeing your child be persecuted by the in-house bully? And believe me, Lucy can dish if she wants. If she's not, you know, in the mood for being "nice."
And every time they leave our house, two minutes later The Chief will start to sulk, "Where Bootsy and Woosie go?"
Chup does it too.
Maybe they should just move in.
Happy Laboring sister!
Look who came last night?
Freddie Andrew Beesley 7 lbs 4 oz.
And Lucy has never looked prettier...or nicer.
It's a sad day in Provo (and it has nothing to do with BYU football)
I am C. Jane Kendrick and that's what sisters are for.
contact me: cjanemail(AT)gmail.com
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