Race Credit Karma: Brett's Blog

So, I am sick.  I have been sick for the last few days.  I have been self-medicating with non-stop drugs while at a wedding in New York just so I could be present for my friend’s celebration (more on the wedding later, as it is blog worthy).  I feel like my body is finally saying, “The wedding is over, you are back home, let’s be sick.”  And that is what I am, sick.

I have been laying in my bed for the last couple of hours.  Our bedroom is on the second floor of an open cape cod house.  You can’t hear everything from our bedroom, but you can hear a lot.  Here is what I heard:  Based on the various metal clinks, my wife was eating dinner by herself at the kitchen table.  My best guess is that getting three kids fed did not afford her the time necessary to satisfy her hunger needs.  So, she was eating in the kitchen, and the three kids were in the family room.

Brett was telling his brother and sister a story.  I could not hear the exact words of the story.  As a matter of fact, I have no idea what the story was about.  What I can tell you is that close to every two minutes, Isaac and Violet would laugh hysterically.  They were laughing hard.  The kind of laughing that forced each kid to jump up and down and you could tell that they could not stop laughing if they tried.  Then, silence, as Brett continued his story.  Once again, I could hear the metal clink of silverware as Leah ate in the kitchen.  And then, hysterical, uncontrollable laughter, but this time, one child must run around the house in a circle because of their laughter.  I have no idea what the story was about, but I do know one thing:  According to Isaac and Violet, Brett is a comedy story-telling genius.

This is one of the few advantages of having three kids, especially when the oldest is old enough to give you a parenting break.  I would love to tell you that it is due to our awesome parenting skills that has afforded us this older sibling luxury, but that would not be true.  Here is how I remember it:  Isaac is done eating.  He wants to play.  He asks his mother to play, but she is not done eating and tells him to wait.  Isaac asks me to play, but I too am not done eating, and then I say, “Why don’t you ask your brother if he will play with you.”  He does.  Brett says no.  I go talk to Brett, “Come on man!”  And the rest is history.  Later, push Violet towards them and point out how much more fun she would have playing with them, then sitting on her parents’ lap.  Add a dash of being purposely extra slow eaters, and you got yourself an after dinner break.  Many times, Leah and I actually talk to each other while we eat and the kids play.  It’s awesome!  Don’t judge us.  Unless you have kids, you don’t understand.  Besides, we are building Brett’s character.

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You know why the kids were being entertained by Brett rather than TV?  No, it is not because we are progressive parents.  Someone lost the remote.  To encourage finding the remote, Leah stated that no one watches TV till the remote is found.  I guess Brett’s love of TV is overshadowed by his hatred of actually looking for stuff.  You got to give my son credit.  Telling a story that makes a one and a half-year old girl and a five-year old boy laugh uncontrollably truly is genius.  He has made one fatal error though; he is very good at entertaining those kids.  He couldn’t get out of giving us a break if he tried, and it’s only going to get worse.  I’m just sayin’ …