Abbey. The things she says keep me rolling with laughter. Here’s a snippet of a conversation that passed between her and me a couple of weeks ago.

(Mommy is in the hallway folding a pile of laundry that runs up to her hip. Why the clothes were in the hallway is another story. Abbey is bringing things from her room to show me, one item at a time, so that after I fold the laundry I will have the great pleasure of returning the items to her room. At the beginning of our story, she is standing behind no less than eight pair of little girl pretend dress-up shoes.)

Abbey (trying on Cinderella dress): “Look, Mommy! Isn’t this one pretty?

Mommy (folding blue jeans): “Yes, Honey, it’s lovely. I think you look nice in blue.”

Abbey (trying on coordinating blue shoes): “Look! They match!”

Mommy (folding a towel that was once white): “Yes, dear, they’re very nice.”

Abbey (trying on red Snow White dress inside-out): Look at this one, Mommy! It’s red! Granny likes red.”

Mommy (wondering whether the green blob embedded into the t-shirt she’s just picked up to fold is Play-Doh or chewing gum that’s been through the dryer): “Yes, I do think Granny would like that one.”

Abbey (holding out magic wand): Here, Mommy. You can have this. You can use it to turn that into a mommy.

Mommy (taking wand):”Oh, that’s nice, Abbey. What does a mommy do?”

Abbey: Dishes.

Welcome to the Simple Blessings weblog! Please come to this site whenever you need a funny or heartwarming story to remind you that, as parents, we all deal with little bumps in the road–and that hidden within those bumps are little blessings. Most of the stories will be cute, funny, or “warm fuzzy” stories about family life and children…some about my own children, and some about other children I’ve worked with in my experience as a teacher and tutor. I’ve found, over the years, that working with children is the surest way to accumulate a collection of wonderful stories, and I hope to share many of my favorite stories with you.

The Three-Year-Old Landscaping Expert

Our oldest son has always been a hard worker. When he was very little, he would take his tool kit and “work” on any piece of equipment he could find…and if a dog, cat, or younger sibling would sit still long enough, he would try to work on them, too! As with most little ones, he behaved much better when he was occupied, so I used any means I could to make sure he was usually doing something he found engaging.  He used to love to help me cut the grass, and, by that, I literally mean “cut” –with a pair of scissors. Child safety scissors…one green blade at a time. Hey–it kept him busy, and, believe it or not, he thought it was fun. One day, I was working in the kitchen and had the kitchen door open so I could watch him in the yard just outside the door. He worked steadily for quite a while before coming up to the door, planting his little hands on his hips, and blurting out in exasperation, “I just can’t keep up with this yard!”

We let him graduate to a toy lawnmower that blew bubbles, and he was the happiest, hardest-working child you ever saw.

The Radishes

I thoroughly enjoyed the time I spent helping out in a Head Start classroom in a small town in Texas before I graduated from college. One of the times I enjoyed the most was mealtime…and it wasn’t just for the food. The meals were served family-style, at a long table with an adult at each end and all the little ones seated on the sides. Children and adults said, “Will you please pass [the apples]?” and “Thank you” each time they requested an item. It was such a nice experience, and it was always my favorite part of the day.

Usually, the meals were  very simple and healthy, and I enjoyed the food as well as the “family table” setting. One day, the little girl sitting next to me–who had huge green eyes and blonde curls all over–sat staring at the round white disks on her plate. Knowing that it was important for the children to eat their vegetables, I tried to encourage her. “They’re radishes,” I said. “Go ahead and try one.”

She stared at the radishes, and then at me, and then back at the radishes. “Do you like ‘em?” she asked quietly.

Now, I have to be honest here. I remembered eating a radish or two, maybe ten years prior, and I couldn’t stand them. But, knowing that I was setting an example, and not wanting to set the poor child up for a cycle of bad health and a lifetime of radish deficiency, I did a very bad thing. “Oh, I love them!” I lied. “They’re so nice and –and crunchy!”

The little girl waited for a second, popped a radish disk into her mouth, chewed a little, and SMILED!

I was elated. It had worked! I had made a positive difference in this little girl’s life!

…and then, I realized–she was looking at me. And then at my radishes. Expectantly. Apparently, she was concerned about me suffering from a radish deficiency, too.

Needless to say, that day I ate my radishes. And do you know what? They really weren’t half as bad as I remembered.