Had an interesting experience today right before language arts. I went for a run during math - after making sure Abby and Emma knew what they were doing and setting Grace in front of a sweet little DVD about a big green bear named Boz who always knows just how small children should obey the Lord in every situation. It was a free promotional thing from a Christian bookstore.
Anyway, we had just finished spelling out on the back patio (it is a beautiful, cool day today), and Abby and Emma had a few minutes of free time before language arts. At about 5 minutes before language arts was supposed to happen, I could not find Abby.
Before delving any deeper into this story, I have to tell you that my family of origin is made up of people with exceptional vocal projection. We are not yellers by any means, but we are gifted hollerers. There IS a difference. Yelling happens when you're mad, hollering happens quite naturally for any reason.
Well, I hollered down the stairs for Abby to come up for language arts. No response. I heard her stereo playing in her room, so I hollered a little louder. No response. At this point I began to get a little irritated. She just purchased her stereo with birthday money, and our rule has been: No playing the stereo loud in the room with the door closed so that you can't hear us!
Now, I YELLED (no more hollering), "Abigail Sarah, get up here for language arts!!!!" No response. This was so out of character for her, and I refused, at this point to go down there. No sir, I was going to see just how loud I had to scream before she would hear me, you know, to prove a point, teach a lesson or something. Poor Grace looked at me like I was a maniac (can't imagine why)...
It was at this time, that Emma came inside and said, "Mom, Abby is riding her bike out in front of the house."
"Oh."
Anyway, we had just finished spelling out on the back patio (it is a beautiful, cool day today), and Abby and Emma had a few minutes of free time before language arts. At about 5 minutes before language arts was supposed to happen, I could not find Abby.
Before delving any deeper into this story, I have to tell you that my family of origin is made up of people with exceptional vocal projection. We are not yellers by any means, but we are gifted hollerers. There IS a difference. Yelling happens when you're mad, hollering happens quite naturally for any reason.
Well, I hollered down the stairs for Abby to come up for language arts. No response. I heard her stereo playing in her room, so I hollered a little louder. No response. At this point I began to get a little irritated. She just purchased her stereo with birthday money, and our rule has been: No playing the stereo loud in the room with the door closed so that you can't hear us!
Now, I YELLED (no more hollering), "Abigail Sarah, get up here for language arts!!!!" No response. This was so out of character for her, and I refused, at this point to go down there. No sir, I was going to see just how loud I had to scream before she would hear me, you know, to prove a point, teach a lesson or something. Poor Grace looked at me like I was a maniac (can't imagine why)...
It was at this time, that Emma came inside and said, "Mom, Abby is riding her bike out in front of the house."
"Oh."
I went downstairs and saw that I had been yelling at Boz this whole time. He had just been going on and on down there, because well, he hadn't been turned off.
I sheepishly went upstairs and said, "Sorry Mommy was yelling, Grace. I shouldn't have yelled so loudly for Abby."
"No," she said, "I hold my hands over my ears for FIVE minutes! I don't like that."
"Yeah, me neither. I won't do that again! I was yelling at Boz."
She again looked at me like I was one loony lady. "Mommy, you can't yell at Boz; he can't even talk to you."
Lesson learned.
I sheepishly went upstairs and said, "Sorry Mommy was yelling, Grace. I shouldn't have yelled so loudly for Abby."
"No," she said, "I hold my hands over my ears for FIVE minutes! I don't like that."
"Yeah, me neither. I won't do that again! I was yelling at Boz."
She again looked at me like I was one loony lady. "Mommy, you can't yell at Boz; he can't even talk to you."
Lesson learned.
3 comments:
Ha! That's a riot Kelly! Thanks for sharing!
I do appreciate that you've educated your readers about the difference between yelling and hollering. Hollering, as you say, happens quite naturally. I wouldn't want anyone to think you grew up in a family where anyone actually yelled. And by the way, Kelly, are you quite sure Boz is a bear?
That's how he came up on google - Boz the Bear, I do think he looks rather like a dog; maybe some odd mix...
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