Five Short Ella Stories

Short Ella Story #1

One day last week, Ella put her running shoes on without socks, a common occurrence which I just cannot understand.  With both shoes now on her feet, she whined, “something’s wrong,” and somehow communicated to me that it was the left shoe that wasn’t “right.”

I told her with all of the attitude I could muster (which pales in comparison to the attitude she regularly gives me… but I digress), “Sure something’s wrong – you’re putting your shoes on without socks.  You’re going to get blisters.  I hope you get blisters so you learn to NOT wear your running shoes without socks.”  And then I helped her fix it and actually succeeded in doing so, I have no idea how.

We made it to the car; and as I strapped her into her carseat, Ella happily announced to all of us (Dan and Cal were already strapped into the car themselves), “Mommy hopes I get blisters.  Yeah, because I didn’t wear my socks.”

I’m sure she announced this to her teachers later, which will be yet another hit to my quest to be Mother of the Year.  I don’t really hope she gets blisters.  I mean, Ella with two unblistered feet is tough enough to handle, but with blisters?

Short Ella Story #2

This morning, I had my morning shake (one of those EAS Myoplex shakes that Dan and I “eat” while we’re on “the program” (Body for Life diet and exercise program)) sitting on the counter in the bathroom.  I was in the shower and not really in a position to fend off my little vultures who might come looking for a sip, so I had pushed the shake back toward the mirror, still reachable by said vultures but not without some effort.

Now, these shakes aren’t the greatest tasting things, but our kids love them.  They enjoy the pasty, semi-sweet taste of them as well as the “Papa moustache” (Dan’s dad, until recently, had a white moustache) the shakes leave on their upper lips after they each take a sip.

Mid-shower, Ella entered the bathroom.  She stood on a stool in front of our bathroom counter and looked at herself in the mirror.  Then she started fidgeting with some of the things on the counter.  I kept my eye on her because I knew at some point she’d make a move for my shake.

She finally did, but subtly, just with her eyes.  I immediately said, “Ella, noooo,” like one would to a dog warning him not to step outside the boundaries of the yard.  And I followed it with, “Hey, Boo Boo, why don’t you brush your hair?” with a really up-beat, excited tone, as if I hadn’t scolded her only seconds earlier.

“NO! I was not checking your shake, Mommy,” Ella said loudly and sternly, angry that I’d even suggest she was… which I wasn’t… well, sort of wasn’t.

“I didn’t say anything about the shake.  I just suggested you brush your hair, Boo Boo,” I responded.  Clearly, I was talking about the shake – she knew it and got the message.

Short Ella Story #3

A recent morning conversation with Ella:

Ella <sweetly>: “Mommy, can I have my animal crackers?”

Me <leading>: “Animal crackers… ?”

Ella <sweetly through a smile>: “Please.”

Me <recognizing a teaching opportunity>: “Ella, if you just always say ‘please’, I’ll be SO PROUD of you.”

Ella <in one ear and translated a bit>: “I’m proud of Zoe.” (Zoe’s our cat.)

Me <following>: “You are?  Why?”

Ella: “Because… because… because she put her fur on.  She put her undies on and her fur and… and… and her shirt.”

Me: “Zoe wears a shirt?”

Ella: “Yes!”

And I left it at that.  Why I didn’t challenge the "undies" part of her declaration is beyond me.

Short Ella Story #4

One morning last week, Cal was sitting pantless on a stool at our kitchen island, either drawing or eating animal crackers (or maybe both).  I don’t know why he was pantless.  I don’t think I even knew why at the time.  Normally, he emerges fully clothed from his room in the morning.

Ella arrived in the kitchen dressed, glanced at Cal and started to climb onto the other stool at the island.  As she did so, she commented on Cal’s half-nakedness:

“Cal, you have a penis and you’re sitting on the stool with no pants on.”

She could not have been more right.

Short Ella Story #5

Ella regularly asks Cal for help.  Washing her hands: "Cal, can you help me?"  Drawing a picture: "Cal, can you draw a lion for me?"  Writing her name: "Cal, can you write my name on this paper?"

And he does.

I love that she's comfortable asking him, and I love that he usually does help her without question.  I hope it's always this way between the two of them.