old journal entries 2002 A.D. ...

12-18-02

Kami has been off the wall lately…or off the hook if you want to use modern verbiage. I wish you could come and live with us for one day; you’d bust a gut! She has a clever way of taking stories and songs and mixing them together. I thought I would humor you with a few of her distorted mix-ups.

I was sitting on Kami’s bed getting ready to pray with her when she looked at me and said, “Dad, is the door locked?” She had never been concerned about htat before, so it caught me off guard. I responded, “Yes, but why do you ask?” She didn’t hesitate a bit, “Because I don’t want Cinderella Devil to come in.” I started to play along, “Who is she?” She fired back, “She is mean to the dogs and wants to get ‘em”.  In her mind Cinderella and Cruella Devil are one in the same. We have some reconfiguring to do in her little brain concerning Disney flicks.

On Monday, she was singing songs in the bedroom while we were getting dressed. She loves to sing in the morning, so we were just enjoying her jolly little voice. She started to sing the song “Give me oil in my lamp keep me burning, burning, burning; keep me burning till the break of day.” And then she did one of her infamous song twisters, “Song Oh Santa, Sing Oh Santa, Sing Oh Santa to the King of Kings…” We were beside ourselves…where does she she come up with this stuff?

We were listening to the Passion cd, and she loves the song, “Here I am to Worship.” We were dancing in the living room together and singing the chours at the top of our lungs. During the last chorus, I stopped singing to hear whether she was in tune and on target with the words, here’s how the chorus goes to her, “Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that You’re my God; You’re altogether Lovely, altogether worldly, altogether wonderful to me.” That one had to make even God laugh!

Almost every night, I lay on the bed with her and we’ve developed this mini-tradition of telling each other make-believe stories. I will tell her one and then she will tell me one. You should hear what she comes up with in her little mind. Two days ago, she started by saying, “Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Nance, she loved, loved, loved to play in trees. Her mother said, ‘No, Nance, you could get hurt!’, but she was naughty. She climbed the tree and fell down and broke her face and had to go to the ‘hosible’ to get a cast. It was a sad story.” 

I’m all about imagination.