Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Tomato sure doesn't fall far from the tree...
I can hardly believe my middle child is four years old today...(sigh)
Affectionately dubbed The Crazy Tomato for her strawberry blond hair and infectiously spontaneous personality, my own little personal Jan Brady is by no means in danger of being lost midst her two sisters. While she sports at the very least an initial minimal shyness, she quickly makes up for that once you've been properly sized up and categorized in her mind as either fun, potentially fun or blah.
Don't be offended by that fact because I've spent my fair share of time in each classification.
Just this past weekend I was trying to explain something to her about...well...I don't actual remember, but I'm sure it was one of the trillion life-lessons I'm required to dole out under the expectations that accompany the title DAD. After the brief explanation while we were riding in the car, I get this:
Tony C: (looking back through the rear view mirror) Are you listening to me?
Crazy Tomato: (looking out the car side window): Okay. I just don't find that interesting. You think it's interesting, but I just don't think that's interesting. Maybe...you can talk about something interesting now. Can I listen to my CD?
Tony C: (under breath): Geez. As if I don't get that enough from your mother and the teenager...
Conversation classified= Blah. Moving on to music =fun.
Or this recent exchange:
Crazy Tomato: (walking into living room and rolling eyes) Why do you watch the NewsHour every stinkin' day dad?
Tony C: (Trying to be clever) Why do you watch Phineas and Ferb every day?
Crazy T: I mean duh...because it's funny and fun.
Tony C: Well maybe I think the NewsHour is funny and fun (as I notice scene of rioting in Syria on screen).
Crazy T: What's fun about people running around screaming and throwing fire things and getting beat up? Should I be watching this? Mom don't let me watch stuff like this.
Tony C: (Cleverness obviously failing) You're right...you shouldn't. Go to your room and play.
Crazy T: (running back through hallway) Mom! Dad's letting me watch bad stuff on the NewsHour!
We've still got to have that talk about snitching which I'm sure she's going to love.
In a growing trend that seems to upset...maybe more irritate... her mother (providing all the motivation I need to continue), my fun-time interactions with the Crazy Tomato have broken down below even a sophomoric-level of crude humor which includes jokes about painting boogers blue, a plethora of poop-related phrases, and even a rather catchy little ditty about shining a flashlight on some body's crack (bottom). Yep...I just love that kid!
Of course, such things have a tendency to backfire and usually at the most inopportune moments like the grocery store, when we have company, or (gasp) in church. I'm just thankful that initial shyness pretty much prevents her from wanting to sing in front of people.
It seems like only yesterday when her then-four-year-old sister, unencumbered by said public-related restriction, was invited to take center stage while at church with my mom one Sunday. Unbeknowst to her, Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap doesn't hold the same classic status with Methodist as it does mainstream rock fans...at least while in the church. I still hear about that one 12 years later.
Maybe the crack song isn't such a good idea after all...
Happy Birthday Crazy Tomato. I love you more than macaroni and cheese with sprinkles!