Sometimes Cheyenne is a really funny kid. It is difficult to imagine when I hear her prattle on and on about the types of things 13 year olds find endlessly amusing that she was quite shy when she was young. Back then she didn’t talk much in public and she would close her eyes whenever she was around a stranger she was uncomfortable with. I remember the year Santa visited the Kindred Library for a photo op – Cheyenne just closed her eyes as tight as she could the entire time we were there. She was, as I said, quite shy.
But that ship has sailed. She is no longer shy and no longer quiet. She has an opinion or thought to share about everything…and yes, I do mean everything. Sometimes her comments are quite thoughtful and other times they are, in my estimation, nonsensical. She is the worst front seat-back seat driver I have ever known. She is constantly trying to counsel me on how to improve my driving. Since she doesn’t drive I find those comments a tad annoying (even if they are technically correct).
Sometimes though she is pretty funny. I rarely see those moments coming – they just jump out at me and I laugh in spite of myself. Cheyenne feeds off of laughter – once she has you laughing she’ll gladly keep going.
While driving the other day and discussing how much longer her sister had in her pregnancy Cheyenne shared enthusiastically her view of how birth should go. According to Cheyenne, babies should just pop straight out of their mom’s stomach with a burst of confetti like a dramatic stage entrance and announce with flair, “It’s a boy!”
The image as she illustrated it was just too much. I had to laugh out loud. Even now, the visual image with the confetti and the Tony Award winning stage center entrance gets me to giggling. All I can think about is how appropriate it would be at that moment as the confetti floats all around to say – A star is born! It seems only fair that it should play out like that seeing as it is such a big event.
That Cheyenne sure can be funny alright…and let’s face it, any minute she is not criticizing my driving is a good one.
One thousand and forty-four of the new forty – obla di obla da