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Do you hear what I hear?

It’s time for our many pets to get their annual
check-up and shots. The best way to handle this is to
schedule an appointment each week with the vet and
bring them in two at a time.
As always, I have at least three kids in tow. One of
those kidlets is my three-year old who has been
seriously studying the vet and all his equipment.

He knows how the stethoscope works, how to give shots
and pills, and how to look at teeth. Is it any wonder
then that at home he follows me around trying to
listen to my heart? Did you know that my heart is in
my bellybutton?

I’ve had several ‘shots’ and I’ve had my teeth
checked, too. Good news! I don’t need a chew bone.
But I might have another area of concern.

I can just see me in the checkout line, receiving my
latest round of make-believe rabies shots, when my
three-year old will pipe up and say, “Momma, you have

Yeah…that’s a common utterance from small children,
isn’t it? It’s right up there with ‘hairplanes’ and
‘basketti’. Sure, all children say such things. Not.

I’ll die.

Just when I think that there’s not one more thing my
kids can do to publicly embarrass me, along comes the
impulsive gene that causes kids to pipe up at the most
inconvenient time in the most inconvenient places and
either point out the obvious or mention something that
you really wish hadn’t been said.

Things said innocently like, “She’s going to have a
baby!” said of an overweight woman, or, “His hair is
funny!” said of a teenager with a punk style.

One time, when my sisters and I were small and the
family was sightseeing, we stopped for ice cream.
Suddenly, a group of Hell’s Angels rode up and my
youngest sister yelled out, “Those men are so dirty.
They need haircuts!” And this sister of mine has
never spoken below 20 decibels. My poor dad, the only
male in our family and thus our protector, quickly
escorted us back to the car.

It’s like being in church during a moment of silent
prayer, when some poor soul’s body involuntarily makes
an announcement to the rest of the congregation that
his intestines are disgruntled. Even though grown
people are biting back snickers and grins, it will be
some small child that will clarify for everyone what
just happened — just in case they weren’t paying
attention. “Hey, that man just tooted!”

G. K. Chesterton once said, “Angels can fly because
they take themselves so lightly.” I think children
help grown-ups take themselves lightly. That’s why
they are such blessings.

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