Day Three of my Week o’ Thankfulness
Are you sick of me yet?
Wouldn’t it be funny if I blogged about my pets today? Maybe just to me.
There are people out there who don’t realize I have a third daughter because I don’t talk about her a lot on my blog. I said once that she’s either so good, I don’t need to talk about her; or she’s so bad, I don’t want to talk about her. Regardless, her name is Tenderheart because she’s the most sensitive of the bunch.
This is my favorite picture in the whole world. My dad bought them matching outfits and went with me to the photo studio and it took about 20 minutes of saying, “1, 2, 3, kiss”, before Sunshine (on the right) and Moonshine (on the left) would kiss her at the same time. Tenderheart was so patient.
Moonshine used to squeeze her fingers in the backseat of the car, a 1998 Dodge Neon with three car seats across the back. I was not fancy. She would grit her teeth and squeeze TH’s fingers in a “I love you so much, George, I’m going to love you and hug you and squeeze you” kind of way.
When I said yesterday, because I know you’re following me on the edge of your seat, that Moonshine was the most like me, I wasn’t lying, but Tenderheart is the most like me in a funny, inappropriate way. I used to moon my grandma. Yeah, so, I’m sure everyone did. No? Well, I loved the shock value of it and to hear her say, Good grief, Christy. I can still hear her saying that.
That’s Tenderheart in a nutshell. Not like she’s going around mooning her grandma, and not that she hasn’t, but she says the funniest, most bizarre things that I just don’t know where they come from. She keeps me in stitches. A better blogger would have written down the weirdest things she’s said this past week and given you examples, but you get what you pay for, and you’ll just have to trust me that she’s hilarious and completely inappropriate.
When we leave somewhere public, we usually have to have “car talk” and sometimes she’s running to the car to start talking because she’s held all those inappropriate things in. At least in public she’s usually well-behaved. I’ve really created a monster that I’m sure I’m going to be paying for the rest of my life, and I already am because sometimes her shock value goes a little too far and I have to reel her back in.
So on this third day of my week ‘o counting my blessings, I’m thankful for Tenderheart. She was born with a knot in her umbilical cord so I like to tell people, It’s a miracle she’s alive. She was my worst birth, my ugliest pregnancy, and the one that snuck by the goalie. She’s the one Sunshine calls, “My favorite mistake” ala Sheryl Crow. She’s bright and funny and sensitive and caring. She’s the one that said she would have stepped in to help at Calvary because she would have LOVED to die with Jesus.
Afterall, Tenderheart keeps us laughing.