I have been long overdue in writing about my lovely daughter. Although, I felt her grow inside of my womb for 9 months and I saw her being pulled from within me, she has to be someone else's child. I know for a fact that I was never a party to any of the things she did not learn in her youth. I was a very informative mother giving her all the knowledge she needed in order to live in this cold and cruel world. She most definitely gets her unconsciousness from her father. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
A few stories I must relate to you before I get to the granddaddy of them all. All of these occurrences happened when she was old enough to have gleaned information from her surroundings and should have had knowledge of them without being told.
The first one is probably easily shrugged off as probably not thinking. My mother had an 8 acre family fish pond and we had a camper trailer that we would frequent in the summer months. One such time we had left the camper to go to Sunday mass and it was pouring down raining when we returned and my father realized he had locked the keys inside of the trailer.
My dad is a very grouchy individual and it was lunch time and the manna (that communion host wasn't going far) was inside of the trailer. He was cursing about having left the keys inside and I'm sure Brandi, my daughter's focus, was mainly on the key being inside of the trailer. Dad comes up with the idea that Brandi is the smallest person ( not the brightest but the smallest LOL I love you Brandi) so he will put her through the window.
Bear in mine that all she is thinking is that the keys are inside of the trailer. Imagine my hungry Dad, in the pouring rain, grouchy as a bear, getting soaked and my daughter finally arrives safely through window and innocently asked:
"Okay Pawpa, where's the keys?"
My dad's response is "Open the son of a bitchin door!"
Yep, she was going to find the keys, crawl out the window and deposit them into my father's soaked hands.
Story Number two also includes my father. I think the man is an instigator.
My lovely little angel was watching Monday night football with us. The game was being played in New Jersey and her step brother was stationed in New Jersey.She was about 14 at the time and the cameraman shows a view of the big beautiful full moon. And my daughter gets excited over the smallest of things and watching a football game which was being played in New Jersey where her step brother was...that was a big happening for her.
My dad was clowning her and says "I wonder if we have a full moon too?" Yes, you guessed...she went and looked.
Story Number three is possibly my favorite story because it's so ridiculous. She, once again is 13 or so. Her favorite country music star at the time is Clay Walker and we are headed for a concert in Beaumont Texas. It is very cold. The wind is bitingly damp and miserable and no amount of clothes can generate enough body heat. Ice is forming on the windshield and my daughter is worried about making it to the concert on time. All our lives, we have heard about the "wind chill factor". Depending on temperature and how hard the winds are blowing determines the wind child factor, right? Wrong. My daughter decides to ask us at that point how do they measure the "windshield factor"? What kind of tool do they use? After, I laughed my ass off, I was no longer cold.
Story Number 4 is more recent and I shared it in an entry. It had to do with her not realizing the mechanics of a "see and say". Here is the story if you care to read it
Now the granddaddy of them all happened this past weekend. My daughter calls me immediately afterward to relate the story. Mom you will never believe what I didn't know. I said "Oh God Brandi, what now?" I have time and time again told my daughter, if she doesn't know something, please ask her mother first. It is imperative, in order, not to look foolish to check with mom. Mom knows all. She doesn't listen very well.
My 23 year old daughter is at her in laws for the Thanksgiving holiday. Her mother in law has apparently made a "to die for" cornbread dressing. I don't know about you guys in this world but I've always called cornbread dressing, cornbread dressing. Simple, right? Self explanatory, right? No need for explanations, right? Wrong!
My daughter asked "NeNe (that's what they call her mother in law) exactly what is cornbread dressing made out of?"
I said "oh no Brandi, please tell me you are joking? How could you possibly not know that or even realize that?"
It's something you just don't think about doing, is sitting your child down and saying "Brandi, my darling, there is something mom needs to tell you, Cornbread Dressing is made out of cornbread."
I have failed as a mother. I admit it.
Here is a pic of that lovely face and smile that occurs when she's overwhelmed with newfound knowledge. That sparkle she gets when she once again realizes she is sometimes mentally challenged.